


Second Chances

by DirtyAim, unleashthewords, zombierose3, ZombieWithANoose



Category: Drop Dead Fred (1991)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, British Comedy, British Slang, Comedy, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Dramedy, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, First Love, Fluff and Angst, FredxLizzie, Friends to Lovers, Gods, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Imaginary Friends, Love, Magic, Not Really Character Death, Original Character(s), Origins, Past Character Death, Post-Movie(s), Psychotropic Drugs, References to Drugs, References to Monty Python, Romance, Second Chances, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Swearing, Teaching, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Trickster Gods, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 75,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyAim/pseuds/DirtyAim, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unleashthewords/pseuds/unleashthewords, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombierose3/pseuds/zombierose3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieWithANoose/pseuds/ZombieWithANoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie's life is picking up until an accident changes everything and sends Drop Dead Fred to ask for the biggest favor imaginable in order to save her. Starts with the origin of how Fred became an imaginary friend. <b>FredXLizzie</b> pairing. <b>(A sequel is planned!)</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Authors' Notes: Hello all! Zombierose3 and Halo4anoose here with our brand new story. Please be warned, the first few chapters will be somewhat dark, but hopefully we have added enough comedy relief in to balance everything out. Drug usage, death, and insanity ahead. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
> 
> Also, try to think of the gods in this story as:
> 
> Axel – Michael Palin  
> Bastion – Graham Chapman  
> Cale – Terry Jones  
> Damion – John Cleese  
> Enzo – Eric Idle  
> Favian – Terry Gilliam
> 
> **Disclaimer: We sadly don't own Drop Dead Fred (or Rik Mayall), or any of the Monty Python people/references we've slipped in here. Such is our lot in life. :P Cruel fate! Only the original characters are ours and we're also pretty sure we own ourselves. Mostly.

**Prologue**

_New Beginnings_

Thunder rumbled across the sky as thousands upon thousands of inebriated partiers stumbled about and swayed to the blaring music that was being pumped out of what seemed to be a never ending sea of speakers. Young women brazenly frolicked about in their bras and panties, while the men looked on, enjoying the sounds and sights surrounding them. The threat of rain didn't faze nor dampen anyone's spirits. Instead, it gave a shock to the already steady pulse of hedonism that was enveloping the entire crowd. It was 1969, and anybody who was anybody was here at the largest party the planet had ever seen: Woodstock.

While the frenzy of excitement continued to grow, one man looked up to the heavens in an attempt to predict when the next rain shower would start.

The day before, it had poured intermittently throughout the festival, and crowds of people had already begun to make mud pits and slides all over the vast countryside where the outdoor event was being held. The mud made it hard for walking, and as the man was always moving from one campsite to another, his mood turned a bit sour at the thought of having to trudge through more of the muck created by Mother Nature.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue jean jacket and began to make his way to the nearest beer stand. His wild, orange hair began to mat against sides of his head as large raindrops began to fall from above.

"Bloody great," the man mumbled to himself. He hated being wet, other than from having the occasional shower.

He pulled the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck and continued his walk to the beer vendor. He could barely walk two steps without tripping over a group of hippies, who he hated as well.

He had been giving the majority of the concert-goers a look of disdain since he arrived yesterday. His face seemed to be stuck in a perpetual look of disgust, with his nose crinkled up and his piercing blue eyes glaring daggers at the heaps of inebriated, free-loving vagabonds.

A random hippie ran up to him and tried to give him a hug while chanting, "Give peace and love a chance, man!" The hippie was quickly knocked on his ass as the orange-haired man would have none of it.

"Peace and love? Piss off!" was the only reply the hippie got in return. 'Love' wasn't something this man knew much about. In and out of orphanages and foster homes since he was born, he felt that no one really wanted him. He always felt at odds with the world around him, almost as if he didn't belong.

He scowled at the mud the hippie had left on his jacket. "I'm too sober for this shit. Roland had better be on time, dammit. I need a drink and a drop," he muttered to himself as he tried to wipe the mess off onto his bell bottom trousers.

The thought of his friend momentarily brought him out of his crappy mood. The only reason he was at this God-forsaken concert was to help Roland make some good money with his homemade acid. Back in Liverpool, blokes would come from miles around just to buy from Roland. It had been his idea to come across the pond when they had heard about this huge concert.

Roland had said they would make a killing, and in hindsight he had been right. He had been out of drops for over an hour now, and the money he had made for Roland was burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted a drink and a hit, as he had been sober for almost three hours now. He hated being sober, the world seemed so much uglier and more pathetic through his eyes. Being smashed was the only way he could handle life, and Roland had been critical in making sure he was always tanked.

He and Roland had only known each other for about a year, but he counted him as his closest mate. He thought Roland's girl, Hannah, was alright as well. She had always treated him kindly, and she constantly had a smile on her face which he found contagious. Between Hannah's kindness and Roland's insistence on having him peddle his drugs, he felt the three of them were as close to a family as he ever had. Roland had said multiple times how good of a runner he was, and when he was high he seemed to make more money for him. With Roland fueling his addiction, he was practically a cash cow.

"Hey, Fred! Over here, mate!" Roland's deep voice carried over the tittering noise of the surrounding crowd.

Fred looked around and saw him standing next to the beer stand. He felt as if he'd hit a stroke of luck. Maybe Roland would be gracious enough to let him get a couple of brews and possibly a couple of drops. "Oi, Roland, I'm out."

"Oh? Damn, Fred. You're on fire, mate. You deserve a brew, and possibly a little pick me up as well," Roland replied with a coy smile, handing him a bottle and two small pieces of paper.

Fred greedily drank down the entire beer in one go and then quickly popped the two pieces of paper in his mouth. "Right. That hit the spot," he said as the paper quickly dissolved on his tongue. "Here's the money. Did quite well, I'd say."

Roland gave Fred a huge grin as he counted the cash. "Aye, mate. You did do well. Best damn runner in Britain, and now in the states as well."

"Hi, Fred!" Hannah said as she bounded up to the two men. "Make any friends out there?"

Fred gave her a crooked smile, combined with a snort of derision. "I hardly think so, not with this lot. Fucking hippies everywhere..."

"Come now, Fred, those are paying customers. Got to service the masses, you know," Roland chided him. He turned to his girlfriend and gave her a frown. "Hannah, I thought I told you not to leave the tent?"

"Oh, come off it, Roland. I wanted to mix in with the crowd a bit. These Americans are quite fun, you know," Hanna said with a laugh.

"Yeah well, they all seem around the bend to me. Playing around in the mud and singing about peace and love." Fred scowled.

Hannah gave him a huge grin and a playful push to his shoulder. "Now Fred, maybe you'd have a bit of fun if you'd loosen up a bit."

Fred gave her a wary look before returning her grin with one of his own. "Perhaps, but we're here to make money, right Roland?"

"Aye, mate. Now look, I need you to do me a kindness and travel on down the road a bit. There's a gas station about ten kilometers from here, and from what I've heard there's a phone booth there," Roland explained as he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket. "I met a bloke that's gonna help me get more supplies for the acid, but he said I gotta call him before he brings anything out. He lives around these parts, and I need those supplies before we can make any more money."

"You want me to leave the concert?"

"You won't be gone long, hell, I'm sure you can catch a ride there if you're persistent enough."

Fred's scowl returned. "I'd rather hoof it the entire way there than get into a vehicle with any of these people."

Roland rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Everyone here's a head just like you."

"I'm not like those... those... dirty bastards..."

"Whatever, now here…" Roland handed Fred the paper with the number, a few dollars, and multiple larger sheets that contained his homemade LSD. "This is the last of what I got. Now, do what you do best and go make that call."

"Alright. Where are you gonna be when I get back?" Fred asked, tucking away the money and papers.

"We'll be at the tent waiting. Unless Hendrix decides to come on early, then we'll be out in the crowd somewhere."

"Right," Fred replied as he tightened his thin jacket around his body. The rain had started to fall harder, and he knew it would be a miserable trip to the gas station. "Think I could have another beer before my trip kicks in?"

"Why not," Roland said as he turned to make another purchase from the beer vendor.

Hannah slid up next to Fred and gave him a hard poke in the ribs. "Come on, you need to smile more, Fred. You know you have a beautiful smile when you try."

Fred gave her a sidelong glance. Hannah was a very pretty woman, with her long red hair and brilliant green eyes. He always thought Roland was a lucky bastard to have her. Had she not been with Roland when he met her, Fred would have certainly tried to make a go at having her for himself. He decided to give her a real smile. "There, satisfied?"

"I am, thank you very much. And you need to slow down on the acid. That stuff is gonna kill you one of these days."

"Nah, I'm a rock. Besides, it makes life easier to deal with," Fred replied.

"So you say." Hannah noticed Roland had finally made it to the counter and was purchasing Fred's beer. "Just be careful on the way to the gas station, okay?"

"I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself, you know," Fred replied, rolling his eyes.

"Just do what I say." Hannah huffed. She suddenly leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek just as Roland turned around with Fred's beer in his hand. Neither Fred nor Hannah noticed that Roland had caught her showing Fred affection, and the sight did not sit well at all with the drug dealer.

Fred's cheeks had gone red from the innocent kiss, and he did his best to focus his attention on his shoes instead of the pretty redhead standing next to him. Roland could clearly see Hannah had a certain effect on Fred, and he didn't like the situation one bit.

He stalked over to them and thrust Fred's beer into his hand. "Here, now get lost."

Fred's focus snapped back to Roland. "Right, be back in a bit," he said as he took off into the crowd.

Hannah watched Fred until he disappeared. "Why were you so rude to him?"

"Why did you kiss him?" Roland shot back.

"It was innocent. Fred's a good guy, plus he's making a killing for us," Hannah said, trying to defend him.

"He's a fucking junkie and a mooch, and you're always hanging all over him. I'm about sick of it," Roland countered. "Come on, let's forget about him and go have some fun. He shouldn't be back for quite some time."

Hannah let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," she said, stomping off without Roland by her side. He knew she had a soft spot for the orange-haired man, but he'd be dammed if he would stand by and watch Fred get the best out of Hannah while he got nothing but her scorn.

"Bastard had better watch his fucking step," he muttered under his breath as he chased after his girlfriend.

* * *

The events of the day were oddly about to intertwine with those across the void in a place called "The Other-Otherworld," where six deities had gathered to discuss a desperate matter concerning their underlings…

"This is terrible," said Axel. "If humans would only stop breeding like rabbits and pay a bit of attention to their children we wouldn't be in this mess!" He paced and continued to read over the quarterly reports.

"We could make some of them eunuchs. That would slow them down," suggested Bastion with an enormous smile.

Damion, the tallest of the gods, rolled his eyes. "You can't just go about castrating humans only because we don't have enough imaginary friends to go around, you bastard! What if I were to just blindly go about ripping people's mouths off when they gave stupid suggestions, eh? Would that solve the underlying stupidity?"

Bastion shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, I have a suggestion that might be helpful," said Enzo, who had been cowering behind the others. Everyone turned around to find him dressed in a lady's frock with a kerchief atop his head.

"What the devil are you wearing, Enzo?!" shouted Damion.

Favian leaned in to whisper at him. "I do believe it's a dress."

Damion glared at him. "I know what it is, you twit! WHY is he wearing it?"

Favian backed away and shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. No one ever tells me anything."

"I'm wearing it because I figured everyone else here would be dressed as men and I wanted to be my own individual." Enzo straightened with pride and smiled.

"We ARE men! We're not in costume!" Damion roared. His fists were balling up to hit this idiot.

"Don't you threaten me! I think I look pretty good. I think I might dress like this from now on. Maybe even be a woman. I'm tired of not getting all the attention. It's more interesting when you're a lady in a group of five men."

"Sounds like prostitution…" mumbled Favian.

Damion ignored the remark and went after Enzo. "You can't just decide that! The whole system will get thrown out of balance," he argued. The others just watched this with morbid fascination.

Enzo crossed his arms defiantly. "Oh, yes I can! I've decided that since I'm a god I'll just pray to myself for a miracle."

It was Axel's turn to interject. "Now hold on! You can't answer your own prayers. There are specific guidelines that prohibit that sort of thing. There would be complete chaos otherwise."

Enzo frowned. "Well then that kills my idea to pray for more imaginary friends…" he mumbled.

The sixth god, known as Cale, tilted his head up in thought. "You just don't see as many crazy people nowadays. It's not like it use to be."

"More like the right kind of crazy people," corrected Bastion.

"Why do you always have to correct me?"

Bastion gave him an uncaring expression. "Oh sod it. I don't always correct you."

"Yes, you do. See, you just did it again, and now you've insulted me as well," cried Cale.

"Pansy," Bastion quipped.

"That's it! Everyone shut up!" shouted Damion, throwing his arms out. "We've got to find more imaginary friends. Everyone take out your mystical monocle goggles."

The gods did as they were told, lifting glowing monocles from their shirt pockets, or in Enzo's case, his purse. Each device was attached to a head strap.

"Right," Damion continued, "now monocles on and shut up!"

* * *

Fred grumbled as he kicked his empty beer bottle down the road. The object of his abuse had been drained long before he left the campgrounds, and now it was nothing but a focal point for his inner-angst.

During his walk to the gas station, numerous people had stopped and asked if he wanted a lift. Fred had managed to successfully ignore all inquiries up to this point. He'd rather trudge through the rain and be soaked to the bone than get into a vehicle with a dirty hippie.

He cringed at the memory of a bus pulling beside him with close to ten of those bastards in there, all wanting him to come along and experience the 'love van.' He had given them the V's, which the American hippies took as a backwards peace sign, and continued his trek down the road.

He had been walking for a few hours now and the gas station finally came into sight. The acid he had taken earlier was well into his system, and he had enjoyed the effects of the drug during his walk.

He could hear the grass growing. The clouds in the sky had turned into shapes similar to pineapples and submarines. The pavement moved around him like a flowing river of asphalt.

Tripping out on the world around him seemed natural, as if this was how the world should be. When he was high, he couldn't be bothered with the fact that he was miserable with his existence. While sobriety brought out the cynicism in him, his acid trips bought out another side of his personality. This side was mischievous, irrational, and childish. Being rude, flipping the V's, and breaking things seemed to come more naturally. Sobriety brought nothing but isolation, pain, and hatred.

Finally reaching his destination, Fred's eyes locked onto the phone booth that was located next to the restrooms. The acid trip going on in his brain made the silver structure look like it was melting from the rain, as if it were made out of some sort of silvery, chocolate substance.

Fred let out a small giggle in amusement. "He he... It's all melty." He sniggered to himself; however, by the time he stumbled across the parking lot, he realized there was someone already using the phone.

His mood was tainted instantly, and a scowl crept across his face as he stomped up to the booth. He slapped his hand against the glass doors and began to holler at the person inside. "Oi! You! Piss off!"

The man looked up and gave him a glare, before turning to ignore him and resume his conversation with the operator on the line. "Yes, I'd like to make a collect call to Polly Cronin in Minneapolis, Minnesota, please." He gave another glance at the scowling man outside the booth. "Just say it's from George."

"Are you deaf? I told you to PISS OFF!" Fred yelled as he continued to beat on the side of the booth. "You're bogarting the bloody phone!"

"Fuck off! Wait your turn!" George cried, flipping him the bird while he listened to the phone ring.

"I got your 'turn' right here, you wanker!" Fred yelled as he lewdly grabbed ahold of his crotch. He glared, and the acid began to once again addle his brain.

Fred's eyes widened in shock as he saw, or rather 'believed' he saw, blue smoke beginning to come out of the man's nostrils, followed by his eyebrows crawling up onto his ugly forehead to form some sort of hairy makeshift mouth. Fred stepped back a moment and blinked, trying to get his bearings and not laugh hysterically at the same time.

George was ready to punch the asshole trying to interrupt him, as he'd never encountered someone so explosive in wanting to use a payphone. He kept his eyes on the orange-haired maniac as he heard the tell-tale click, signaling that someone had finally picked up.

A very confused little girl's voice could be heard on the other end of the line. "Hello?"

George could barely hear her over the jerk-off's relentless banging, and pulled the phone away from his ear to yell at him. "Go fuck yourself, you queer!" He put the phone back to his head. "Elizabeth, is that you? It's your Uncle George."

"Hi, Uncle George!" Elizabeth cried happily through the phone. "Why are you yelling bad words?"

"Trust me, Elizabeth. There's an asshole outside the phone booth who deserves it," he answered as he gave Fred the finger once again. George heard Elizabeth gasp, and he knew the child's pending questions would prevent him from talking to his sister if he didn't speed things along. "Listen, sweetie, I'd love to talk with you, but could you get your mother?"

"What for?" Elizabeth asked.

"Please, sweetie, let me speak to your mom," George begged as he continued to watch the crazed man outside. The guy's face contorted from confusion to shock, and he ended by breaking into hysterical laughter. "Jesus this guy is nuts! Elizabeth, get your mother NOW!"

Fred was no longer mad at the fact this man was using the phone. Instead, he was pissed that the man's 'eyebrow mouth' had called him a queer. He couldn't help himself as he broke out laughing; it was really the eyebrow mouth that had pushed him over the edge. A crude idea suddenly sprung into his drug-fueled mind.

Walking to the side of the phone booth, Fred dropped his pants. "I'll show you queer, you bastard," he said, pressing his butt cheeks up against the glass.

George spun and hit the other side of the glass wall in a fit. "Holy SHIT! Elizabeth, for the love of GOD! Get your damn mother!" he yelled into the phone. He felt bad for yelling at his niece, however, he was desperate to get out of there before things got any worse.

Elizabeth dropped the phone and yelling was heard on the other end of the line.

"Elizabeth, who're you talking to? You know you're not suppose to answer the phone without my permission."

Elizabeth was heard screaming back, "I didn't answer it!"

"Well, then who did?" A moment of silence passed before Polly picked up the phone. "Who is this?"

George blinked, still terrified and unable to look away from the horror that was this man's bottom. "Uh, h-h-hello, Polly. It's your brother, George. I'm going to be quick as there's a certain... um... situation going on outside... I need some money wired to me."

Fred knew he had unnerved the man in the booth, so he went for broke. He bore down and clenched his stomach muscles. A loud noise erupted from Fred's bottom, and the air came out at such a forced velocity that the glass on the booth vibrated from the pressure. "Take that, tosser!"

George paled and his pretentious sister continued to chide him on the other end of the line.

"I don't have a brother and don't remember any Georges, unless they are sober and have started to become a useful member of society," Polly remarked. "I told you before, I don't lend money to druggies!"

George didn't have an answer for his uppity sister as he was too busy watching the orange-haired man push himself away from the glass. When the freak turned around, he had the most maniacal smile on his face that shook George to his core. His mouth went dry and fear gripped him. His original plan to call his sister and ask for money so he could get loaded had gone completely to shit, thanks to this insane man now prowling around outside the phone booth like a wild-eyed, hungry predator.

Fred lunged at the glass. "If you don't get the fuck outta that phone booth, I'll be forced to pull out my knob and beat you over the head with it!"

George could still hear Polly berating him over the phone, which didn't mesh well with his body shaking from fear over the thought of possibly getting assaulted with another man's penis. "Okay, Polly, shut up! I'm sorry I called... and right now I can't deal with your condescending bullshit!" he yelled. He'd known it was a long shot at calling his sister for money, but at least he could give her a little present in return for her denying him the cash.

"Oh, and by the way, there's someone here that wants to talk to you," he said, opening the booth shakily and holding out the phone to the orange-haired man. "Here, I'll let you finish this," he muttered as he pushed it into his hands. George then raced from the booth and straight into the gas station's bathrooms to lock himself in.

Fred smiled as he savored his small victory. He looked at the receiver in his hand and scratched his head. The decision to be as belligerent as possible to whoever was on the other end was just too tempting to pass up. He lifted the phone to his ear. "Who in the bloody hell is this?"

"Excuse me?!" Polly screamed, shocked that someone had the gall to swear at her.

"Are you deaf? I asked you 'WHO THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!'" Fred screamed back.

Polly gasped, absolutely floored. Who was this cretin? She spun around to glare at Elizabeth. "Just who in the hell have you been talking to, young lady? For God's sake! You're six years old! Can't you be trusted one minute alone?" she shouted.

"I'm sorry! I was only talking to Uncle George!" the little girl said, letting out a sob. Tears ran down her face as her mother refused to back down.

"You're lying to me! Why can't you ever stop lying or acting like a brat for five minutes?!" Polly screamed. Elizabeth sobbed louder and ran from her mother's side and into the kitchen.

Fred could hear the little girl crying in the background. He didn't understand why she was crying or why the mother was even yelling at her, nonetheless, the lonely orphan inside him became enraged. "HEY! Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you bitch!"

Polly's wrath returned in full to the man on the phone. "How DARE you! Who is this? Why are you talking to my daughter?"

"The only woman I've talked to is you, you ghastly whore!" Fred screamed back.

In the kitchen, Elizabeth stifled her sobs and quietly picked up the other phone. She had heard the man with the funny accent yelling at her mother, and she was curious to know who was brave enough to withstand her rage. She dared not breathe, fearing what would happen if she were caught. Dread washed over her as she listened to how livid her mother had become.

Polly was about to hand this man his ass and send for the cops, regardless of where he was calling from. How dare some random man scream at her like this? "I'll have you arrested for this... this... harassment!" She was fit to be tied, and this was all her daughter's fault. She pulled her ear away from the phone and continued her tirade, except it was now aimed back at her child. "Elizabeth, you get your ass upstairs now! You're not having dinner, and you're having your dolls thrown in the trash, and you're not to leave your bed until tomorrow!"

"OI! What kind of megabitch are you?!" Fred yelled, blown away at hearing the little girl's punishment. He hadn't even spoken to her daughter, and this crazy bat was fully planning on taking it out on her own child. "You're a vile, evil woman; a MEGABITCH!"

Polly gave one last disgusted look at the phone and slammed it down. "You have five minutes to come out of your hiding spot, Elizabeth," she warned before walking away from the phone. Polly stomped to the front door and let herself outside in need of a cigarette. "I swear this child will be the death of me!"

Elizabeth was frozen to the floor, but she still clutched the kitchen phone in her hand. Her heart raced as she knew she shouldn't be talking to strangers, but she wanted to see if the funny man was still there. "H-hello?"

Fred's eyes went wide as he heard the small voice on the phone. "Hello? Who is this? Was that loud beast your mum?"

"Yeah. I hate her," Elizabeth answered. "She's mean. What's your name?"

Fred scowled. His mind flashed back to how he was treated by previous foster parents and guardians and, oddly enough, his drug-addled brain allowed him to be sorry for this little girl. "My name's Fred, and mind you, it's not good practice to talk to strangers, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but I like you... and I don't have any friends... Mommy says it's because I'm a brat."

Fred frowned as he could hear the sadness in the little girl's voice. It didn't seem rational to him how this child could like him when she had no idea who he was. He realized she must be starved for attention if she was willing to be friends with a complete stranger. He knew that feeling all too well and it made him feel even sorrier for her. "What's your name?"

"Elizabeth," she said, perking up a little. "You're really nice. I liked the way you talked back to her. I wish I had someone around like you, Fred. You'd be my best friend."

Fred smiled inwardly. Kids were always easy to deal with. In fact, he liked kids because they were honest. Fred's ego received a small boost; it was nice hearing compliments, even if they came from a child. "Well, your mother sounds awful. Does she always take away your toys?"

"Yes. She throws them away sometimes to teach me to behave."

"Throws them away? What the... What about your dad?" God forbid if her father was just as bad. "Is your dad around?"

"He works a lot. I don't ever see him." Elizabeth sadly sighed into the phone. "Hey Fred, where do you live? Can I run away with you?"

Fred's eyebrows furrowed in thought as he let out a sigh. It was clear there was nothing he could do for this little girl, and he didn't want to get her hopes up by making promises to her that he simply couldn't keep. "I live far away from here," he explained. "I'm sorry Elizabeth, but I don't think that's a good idea." He knew he was probably breaking her heart, but he really had no choice. "Listen, just keep being yourself. No matter what your mum says. Think you can be brave and do that?"

Elizabeth swallowed down the lump in her throat. She admired this man, wherever he was. "I guess," she replied sadly. She was worried he was about to hang up now and she didn't want that.

Fred's brain was beginning to trip again, as he looked at the keypad on the phone and realized it was melting onto the floor. He shook his head in an attempt to stop himself from seeing things long enough to get off the phone with the little girl. "Just remember, that crap your mother told you about not having any friends because you're a brat; that's a pile of shit. And if she tells you something you don't believe, you just tell her 'that's a pile of shit.'"

Elizabeth giggled really hard. "Okay, Fred. You're really funny for a grown up." The front door suddenly clicked open and Elizabeth gasped. "I gotta go, Fred. I'll never forget you," she said before slamming down the phone and running upstairs for her life.

Fred blinked for a moment, not just because the little girl had suddenly hung up on him, but also because the keypad had decided to melt in reverse, and set the phone booth back to normal.

"Bloody hell, that had to be the weirdest conversation I've ever had..." He put the phone on the receiver and dug in his pocket for the phone number he was supposed to be calling. "God help me if another little kid answers the phone," he said as he punched in the numbers.

* * *

Roland sat back on his heels as he watched Hannah sway to the music. Sly and the Family Stone had just taken the stage and Hannah was entranced by the music and the drugs that coursed through her veins. He gazed at his girlfriend, completely in awe of how beautiful she was. He felt a sudden surge of possessiveness and he reached out to stroke her long, red hair.

Hannah turned mid-sway and gave him a dazzling smile. "Are you done being sore with Freddy?"

Roland internally scowled at the very mention of his name. "I'm fine," he replied.

Hannah leaned over to give him a tender kiss on the lips. "Good, now sit with me and enjoy the music."

Roland forced a smile as he moved to sit beside her. His mind, however, was busy mulling over the situation at hand. Fred was slowly becoming the competition, and he simply couldn't have that. But, the situation was a bit more complicated.

Fred had managed to become wholly dependent on the drugs Roland was supplying him. He knew he'd never be able to get rid of him completely by simply cutting him off. Hannah would also throw a fit if Roland even brought up the idea of getting rid of him. She had become attached, and getting her away from Fred would be almost impossible.

Roland looked to his side to see a man shooting himself up with something that looked different from what he had seen the other hippies using out here. He leaned toward the man's direction. "Say, what's that you got there?"

The man's eyelids drooped and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Roland scowled and snapped his fingers into front of the hippie's face. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

"He can't hear you, man," another hippie said from behind Roland. "He's... you know... comfortably numb. Black tar heroin, man."

"Heroin? What's that?" Roland asked, turning around to face the bloke behind him.

"It's good shit, man, but ya gotta be careful. Can't shoot up too much at once. It'll make you go numb forever." He laughed.

"'Numb forever'? What's that mean?"

"Dead man. Means you'll be dead."

"Huh, really?"

"Yeah, man. Some guy OD'ed this morning. Heavy stuff, man."

Roland turned back around and scratched his chin in thought. A cruel smile crossed his lips. Perhaps there was a way to get rid of Fred after all...

* * *

Back in the Other Otherworld, the six monocle-wearing gods pulled off their magical devices and turned toward one another. They had searched most of the mortal realm and had found one particularly promising individual…

"Gentlemen, I believe we have found our next imaginary friend," Damion announced proudly.

"Well, I told you we'd find somebody if we looked in at Woodstock, but did you listen to me? No! You had to start all the way over in bloody Kansas all because you love that stupid movie," Axel muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Oh shut up! You wouldn't know good cinema if it bit you on the ass and tickled your dick," Damion snapped back. "Now we've found a suitable man for the job—"

"Are you talking about that Fred guy?" Cale asked.

"Yes," Damion said with impatience.

"Well I didn't vote for him," said Cale.

"No one asked you," Bastion interjected before Damion had the chance. "You know your rights have been revoked since the last time."

"That was circumstantial and we swore we'd never speak of it again!" Cale shouted, raising a threatening finger at Bastion.

"I'll bite it off! I've done it before!"

Amidst the squabble, Damion glanced toward Enzo and held out his hand. "Hand me that purse."

Cale guffawed. "That's not really a threat when they grow back," he quipped at Bastion with an uncaring shrug.

Bastion's mouth fell open in his rage before he could speak. "You… cheeky bastard! I'll have your—"

Damion smacked him hard in the face with Enzo's purse, effectively silencing him and sending him spinning to the ground. All the gods stared in shock, with Enzo gasping like he'd been wounded. Damion straightened and tossed the bag back at its owner.

"Here," he said.

Catching it, Enzo hurriedly looked it over, finding a mark across the fabric. "Oh, you've scratched it!" he whined.

Damion shot him a glare. "Technically Bastion's face did, and I don't care."

"But—"

"Oh decorate it with something." Damion growled and turned toward Bastion who had managed to get back to his feet. He opened his mouth to say something, but just didn't want to make the effort, so instead he moved on to Cale. Pointing at him he said, "The last time you voted can you tell me what happened?"

Timidly Cale shrunk back from Damion. "We swore never to bring it up."

"Yes, well we did, but someone seems to have forgotten what an idiotic twat they were and thinks they can vote again. So tell me, what was it?" His eyes seethed at him in wait of a response.

"I voted that no one could say no on Wednesdays because I wanted everyone to have a constant day of fun," he mumbled.

"Yes, and do you remember what happened on the first Never Say No Wednesday?" Damion asked with his voice grating higher. Cale lowered his head, not wanting to answer, so Damion pressed on. "Never Say No Wednesday was the worst day in Other Otherworld history because _some_ of us," he stopped and glared at Axel and Enzo, "took the matter a little too seriously when considering their duties, and for an entire DAY, Adolf Hitler was the imaginary friend of one little Charlie Manson."

"That was circumstantial—"

"That was catastrophic and you're never voting again! I don't care if it's to decide what hat to wear on Sundays! You're lucky I've left you standing and—"

"Uh, Damion," Axel interrupted.

"What is it?"

"If you, uh, wanna vote on this Fred fellow being an imaginary friend we better hurry. Clock's ticking for him, I'm afraid."

Damion rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Right, right." He gave one last sneer at Cale and turned around. "Alright, all in favor of taking in Fred raise your hands."

Cale stepped into the circle with a weak smile and Damion pushed him back by the face.

* * *

Fred made it back to the campground just before it started getting dark. He figured whoever Roland's contact was should have made it to the festival by now, and he hurried his way through the piles of hippies, trying to reach his friend's campsite. He could feel his drops wearing off, and he wanted to get back quickly. He'd managed to sell the rest of the acid Roland had given him back at the gas station, so hopefully he would get a little pick me up for all his hard work.

He moved through the throngs of party goers, careful not to interact with any of them as if they were diseased, and finally made it back to the beer stand. A disappointed look crossed his face as he realized Roland was nowhere near the booth. Scowling, he looked at the surrounding crowd in an attempt to locate either him or Hannah.

While he couldn't see his friends, his eyes did spot that loathsome bastard from the phone booth. It seemed some young tarts were trying to get a picture of the bloke, so Fred decided he would continue his belligerence from earlier.

He moved behind the bastard and made a face as the girls snapped their picture, shooting the V's to the man's back before he walked off in search of his mates.

Fred only had to wander a few minutes more until finally recognizing his party's campsite. He rushed over and pushed back the flap to Roland's tent.

"Roland, you in here?"

"Aye, I'm here, mate. Come on in," Roland said, gesturing for him to come inside.

Fred stepped into the tent and saw that his mate was hard at work on his next batch of acid. "Take it your connection beat me here, eh?"

"He did. Thanks for making that phone call. Did you manage to sell off the rest of our stash?"

"Sure did," Fred replied as he pulled a wad of money out of his pocket. He sat it on the table in front of Roland. "We're making a lot of money out here."

"Cool, man," Roland said, eying the cash. He had to admit... Fred had a knack for pushing his drugs.

The tent flap rustled and Hannah came bouncing in. "Freddy! You're back!"

Fred gave her a nod. "Made some money too," he said, pointing to the wad of cash on the table.

Hannah's eyes lit up. "That's great! We'll be living the high life once we get back to Britain."

Roland let out a laugh. "I hope so." His hand felt the front of his pants' pocket, making sure his special concoction was still in its hiding spot. "Say, Hannah, why don't you and Fred go grab a couple of beers. I need to finish up this last batch before Fred and I hit the crowds again."

Hannah snaked her arm around Fred's. "Sure! Come on, Fred. Let's get a pint," she said, pulling the orange-haired man out of the tent.

"Right. Roland, you want a beer?" Fred asked as Hannah tried dragging him further.

"Sure, mate."

Fred nodded his head and finally conceded in letting Hannah pull him towards the beer vendor. Roland watched the pair leave and his scowl returned. He was tired of Hannah putting her hands on that filthy drug addict.

He dug into his pocket for the heroin he had hidden away. He quickly pulled out a spoon and a lighter to melt down the drug into liquid form. "Now... wonder how much of this it's gonna take… Fuck it! Might as well do the whole baggie."

Once he took care of getting the heroin into liquid, he poured it onto the blotter paper he had specially prepared. He set it aside just in time to see Hannah and Fred come back into the tent with their beers.

"Thanks, mate," Roland said as he took his beer from Fred. He took a long swig and nodded to the table. "I'm done with this batch. Let's get to selling it, eh?"

"Sounds good to me," Fred replied.

Hannah gave the boys a frown. "Why don't we all go and enjoy the concert instead? Fred hasn't had a chance to have any fun."

Roland gave her a pointed look. "We're here to make money. Once I sell this batch we'll chill out, okay?" He leaned forward and gave his girl a soft kiss on the nose. "I promise."

Hannah gave him a stern look. "Alright, fine, but you'd better come straight back once you're through."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, Fred. Let's go."

"Right." Fred gave Hannah a sheepish grin. "See ya in a bit."

The two men stepped out of the tent. "Let's try over there by the edge of the festival," Roland said, leading the way as Fred obediently followed.

They eventually made it towards the back of the crowds, having generated lots of sales on the way, and Fred was beginning to get a bit antsy about the lack of drugs in his system.

"Say, Roland. Mind if I get a drop?"

"Actually, I'm glad you asked. I made a special set of drops just for you. They're a bit more potent, and I'd like you to test them out," Roland said, pulling out the special blotter sheets.

"Give it here, man, I'll take 'em," Fred said excitedly.

Roland handed him the paper. "Well, you've earned it. You've outdone yourself these past couple of days," he said as he tipped back his beer, draining it of its contents.

Fred popped the sheets of paper in his mouth and his face twisted up for a moment. "Damn, these are bitter."

"Think it's the paper. Not quite the same stuff we get back home," Roland explained, hoping that Fred would just shut up and accept whatever he told him.

Fred nodded and allowed the paper to dissolve all over his tongue. He swallowed the excess spit his mouth generated, and then chased all of it with the rest of his beer. "Damn, you're gonna have to flavor that shit differently."

Roland wasn't sure how long it would take since Fred had taken the large dose of heroin orally. He sat down by a fence post and took in the scene around him. It was completely muddy and fixing to become even muddier as the sky threatened to release more moisture on top of their heads. "Here, take a seat. We've been walking for a while and I'm sure you'd rather rest until your drops kick in."

Fred sat on the ground next to Roland and they watched as the hippies danced and played in the muddy field. Roland nudged Fred's shoulder. "Bunch of crazy bastards, eh?"

Fred gave a nod. "Aye, loony wankers."

As they watched, Fred began to feel tired, very tired in fact. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Oi, this stuff must be good. It's making me tired as hell."

"Well," Roland began as he looked at Fred from the corner of his eyes, "let's just sit here a bit longer and see if it passes." Fred's eyes kept closing until finally rolling back into his head. Roland watched as his breathing gradually became more labored and intermittent.

He leaned in and looked closely at Fred's face. "Oi, Fred. You alright, mate?"

Fred tried to answer, but found it impossible for him to make any noise. He was in a state of overwhelming euphoria, and the feeling scared him. He had experienced bad trips before, but this time it felt like it was impossible to breathe. He could feel his body beginning to get heavier and heavier and drool started to ooze out of his mouth. He couldn't stop it, and even when he tried to panic, the feeling seemed to be too weighed down by the drugs for him to even get excited.

Roland stood up and walked in front of Fred. "Took it long enough," he muttered. "Sorry, Fred, but this is where our friendship ends. You're not coming back with us... because I simply can't stand the sight of ya anymore."

Fred could hear Roland's voice, but he could not process what he was saying. He tried to gurgle a response, but his mouth was too full of foam and drool. He began to slump forward and lean to the side as if the top half of his body was weighed down in lead.

Roland took a quick look around him to see if anyone was watching. His impatience had begun to surface. "Dammit, why don't you just drop dead, you bastard?!" He took his empty beer bottle and brought it down forcefully on the back of Fred's head, rendering him unconscious. Fred fell face down into the mud.

Blood ran down the back of his neck and ears and the open wound in his head showed no signs of stopping.

Roland kicked his limp body out flat, making sure his face was buried deep in the mud. He could see Fred's body attempting to take in air from the bubbles gurgling in the muck, but he knew it was too late for him to be saved. He started to kick mud over Fred's body in an attempt to make him blend in with the surrounding mud pits.

Once he felt he had done a decent job, he spat onto the almost lifeless body beneath him.

"Pathetic sod. You were nothing but a worthless piece of shit. No one's gonna miss you."

* * *

"Quick, pull him through! We're gonna lose the bastard!" Damion roared.

"I AM pulling!" Bastion cried. "HE needs to concentrate harder!" He rolled his eyes over at Cale. The accused man gasped.

"OI! I AM concentrating!" he shouted, waving his fingers away from his head for emphasis before returning them to his temples like the others.

Bastion shook her head. "Then you're not concentrating _hard_ enough, now are you?"

Cale shot him a glare. "Yeah well, you concentrate like a girl!"

"Hey! The only person who's supposed to be concentrating like a girl is me!" Enzo spoke up with great offense.

"Oh piss off!" Damion shouted. "And put that glue gun down for Gods' sake! Now's not the time to be gluing rhinestones to your bloody purse!"

"Seriously, it is for our sake... We're gonna lose him!" Axel warned.

"Well, concentrate then!" Bastion rolled his eyes and felt a headache coming on. It was like he was the only one here with any brain cells and they were dying from the strain, as well as the stupidity.

"I am, you wanker!" Cale remarked.

"Enough with the bollocks!" Damion interjected. "Ready, on three—"

"Wait, are we going on three, or after three?" Axel asked.

"On three, dammit." Damion's eyes looked like they were about to spew fire.

Bastion tilted his head curiously. "Why not five? What's wrong with five?"

"OH BLOODY HELL! JUST PULL HIM THROUGH ON THREE, YOU BUNCH OF BOLLOCK LICKERS!" Favian finally shouted.

Cale's mouth fell open in complete surprise. "Have you seen any of us lick bollocks? Because I'm going to have to disagree with that statement..."

Favian clenched his jaw a moment. "Would you just piss off and do what I say?"

"You piss off!" Cale spat.

"No you!"

"Both of you piss off!" Enzo shouted. "If we bugger this up I may be forced to slap you with my handbag!"

Axel leaned over to Cale and Favian. "Oi, better listen to him... He's got a lot of jewels glued to that thing... It's gonna take off some skin..." he mumbled.

Damion threw his arms up with rage. "Fucking hell! A man is DYING! Concentrate! Now, ON three… One... two... THREE!"

All of them squinted their eyes and put their full concentration on dragging Fred from the mud and into the Other Otherworld with them. Straining sounds were heard from them as their target's body sank deeper into the puddle, vanishing completely from the mortal realm. He began to materialize, curled up in a ball at their feet, wet and covered with mud.

The six gods dropped their hands from their heads and looked down at their newest recruit.

"He's making a mess on the floor," Favian mumbled with some disgust.

"Well, I'm not cleaning that up," Bastion said and pointed at Enzo. "That's woman's work."

"Hey!" Enzo's jaw dropped.

"You wanted to be the woman! You wanted to be different!" Bastion pointed a finger and Enzo shook his head.

"Different, not the bloody maid!" he answered.

Cale smirked. "Who said 'maid'? There's also mud wrestling." He shrugged.

Axel started laughing and Enzo smacked him with his bag.

Damion, meanwhile, was ignoring them and gave Fred a light kick to see if he was conscious or not. All he heard was a low gurgle.

"Alright, you bastards!" he shouted to the others, bringing back their full attention. "Seems Fred's out cold for a moment, nearly dying and all that, SO, it's time we set up our little welcoming wagon." Damion grinned and rubbed his hands together deviously.

* * *

Back on Earth, Roland watched with a smug smile on his face as Fred's body disappeared into the mud. A problem now stricken forever from his life. "Perfect."

He strode away, quickly blending into the throngs of people at the edge of the festival, but soon found his mind clouded and fuzzy, as if he were suffering from a bout of dizziness. He staggered a few steps, grabbing his head, until suddenly the feeling was gone. His mind completely cleared.

Stopping in his tracks, Roland looked around at where he was. "Why am I out here?" he muttered to himself, slowly turning and seeing the mud pile he had just walked away from.

Why had he come to the edge of the festival? Was he meeting someone out here? He shook his head and decided to just make his way back to his tent.

Once he arrived, Hannah rushed out to hug him. "Did you miss me?" she asked while tickling his sides.

Roland returned the embrace and gave his girl a huge smile. "Of course, love." He kissed her on the nose. "Um, do you remember who I was supposed to meet out at the edge of the festival?"

Hannah gave him a confused look. "I thought you were just going out to sell off the new batch you made?"

"Huh. Well, I must be confused. I feel like I'm forgetting something…"

Hannah furrowed her brow, also trying to remember. She recalled Roland leaving the tent, but that was it. She felt she was missing something… but it was so distant in her mind she couldn't catch it. "Well, for the life of me I can't figure out what it is you could be forgetting. Apparently I've forgotten too, so I suppose we're both a bit around the bend."

"Hmm…" Roland scratched his head. "Well, whatever it is I'm, well, _we_ are forgetting... it must've not been that important." He bent down and gave Hannah another kiss on the nose. "Come on. Let's go enjoy the rest of the festival."

* * *

Fred let out a wheezing cough as his eyes began to crack open. He could feel the mud drying on his face, and the weight of the muck seemed to force his head to the floor. He tried to get his eyes to focus in on his surroundings, but the lids were so heavy…

The image of Roland's beer bottle crashing down on the back of his head burst into his mind and his eyes suddenly had no trouble opening. His gaze, however, landed on something even worse.

A man with red horns on his head stood over him with a shovel in his hands. Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What the fuck?"

Damion cackled maniacally as fire shot out from the heads of two stone gargoyle statues perched behind him. He raised the shovel high and twirled it around his head before pointing the spade at Fred's face. "Hello, Fred!"

Two of the other gods were cloaked in black robes and crawled in abnormal movements across the ground, leaping onto rocks and snorting like beasts. The remaining three were disguised as a three-headed giant troll monster, wielding a large axe.

Damion smiled evilly. "Welcome to your eternal Hell!"

Fred's mouth gaped like a fish out of water and he blinked in sudden notice of his surroundings. He was in the center of what looked like a stone altar with fire lapping at its edges. He blinked again and let out a strangled cry as he pushed himself away from the devil man.

This had to be the WORST trip he had ever had, and in that moment he swore he'd never touch acid again. This living nightmare had him officially terrified. He knew he had done some bad things in his life, but he had never really caused anyone any serious harm. Never in his wildest imagination would he have believed that he would wind up in Hell. "D-don't hurt me, please! I SWEAR I'll never drop acid again!"

Damion tried so hard to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. He busted out laughing, throwing his head back and dropping forward to grab his stomach. The horns on his head started blinking intermittently.

"D-Did you see your face! HA HA!" He slapped his knee and materialized a floating picture frame containing a photograph of Fred's expression for him to look at. Damion wiped a tear and straightened himself back up. "Oh fuck! We're all just kidding, but that was bloody priceless!"

He kept cackling away as the others removed their masks and hoods and stepped out of the shadows. The Hell world suddenly morphed away and the room returned to its proper state of a lavish palace one might find in a fairytale.

Fred looked at the men standing above him in complete and utter disbelief. 'Worst. Trip. EVER,' he thought to himself. He slowly sat up and put his hands to his head. "What the fuck? Oh God... please... PLEASE let me sober up."

"Can't believe he fell for that one! Why are these mortals always so gullible? It's amusing, really," Damion prattled on with a huge smile.

Axel gave him a tired glance. "It's a wonder, given you dress it all up by sporting a shovel. Satan never holds a shovel... least he wouldn't if he existed..." he said.

Damion rolled his eyes. "What are you? The shovel squad? I get points for creativity."

Enzo perked up. "Oh hey! So, are you going out for individualism, too?"

"No. Go strangle yourself with your handbag," he answered. He turned back to orange-haired man. "Oh, by the way, Fred… you're completely sober, AND you're dead. Surprise!"

Fred blinked. "Do WHAT?!"

Damion grinned. "You died. You've ceased to be. You've kicked the bucket, or if that doesn't make it any clearer, you've DROPPED DEAD, FRED!"

Fred's mouth continued to open and close without any words spilling from his lips. He timidly reached up to his face, still finding the mud caked in multiple layers on his skin. He looked down at the rest of his body and did a mental check of all his appendages. His eyes once again flew back to the men standing over him. "I-I'm... I'm... what?"

Damion licked his lips and turned to Axel. "Is he slow? I can't make it any clearer."

Axel rolled his eyes and stepped toward Fred. "Well, you didn't quite die. We saved you just before so we could use you for some greater purpose, but your life is finished, so I guess you could still call it 'dead.'" He smiled kindly at the man, hoping that would make things better.

Fred frantically shook his head. This was a dream. It HAD to be. This was beyond a drug-induced hallucination. "I'm dreaming. This isn't real. This CAN'T be real."

"Bloody hell, he is slow," Damion mumbled with annoyance.

Bastion stepped forward with an idea. "Alright, then prove it's just a dream. What is the last thing you remember happening to you?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Fred closed his eyes tight, forcing himself to remember. "I was sitting next to Roland. I... He..." The flashback hit him full force and his eyes flew open in despair. "I was tripping. I couldn't breathe. I... I could hear Roland muttering..." He sat up and pressed his palms to his eyes, trying harder to remember and force the thoughts out of his at the same time. "I couldn't move. Something was wrong with me. Then... then Roland... he raised his arm and... and..."

Fred suddenly let out a sob. The person who he thought was his best mate had hurt him, and hurt him through a vicious means of doing so. "WHY?!"

"Aww…" Enzo said with a sympathetic expression. He held out his arms and moved out to hug Fred. Damion smacked him back with his shovel.

"Stop it, you ninny!" This day was not going as he'd hoped. There was always a snag of some kind with these things. He turned his focus back on Fred. "Because he was jealous, Fred. His girlfriend was fancying you. He's complete scum and a bastard and I'm sorry," he said, suddenly turning sincere. He could see this man was very broken up about this and it wasn't like he didn't have a heart somewhere inside him.

"Do what? Hannah? Interested in me?" Fred's confusion finally reached a breaking point. He knew Hannah cared for him, but it was sisterly... right? "How do you know how she felt? What were you doing? Spying on me?"

Cale nodded with big eyes. "Yes. We spied on everything there."

"And Kansas," Favian added.

"Kansas? Who's that?" asked Fred.

"The STATE!" said Damion. "Honestly, I'm about to lose my mind," he muttered.

Axel decided to try to help out again. "We were looking for individuals to be imaginary friends to children and we felt you suited the job perfectly." He elbowed Enzo to add something next.

"Oh, and um, we thought you'd be a perfect friend for that Elizabeth you spoke to earlier. She was quite taken with you." He smiled.

Fred's mind was frantically trying to catch up with the entire situation. "Okay, wait. Let me get this straight… I'm dead... sort of... Does this make me a zombie?"

"Do you want to bite anyone?" Damion asked, feigning patience.

"Well, no..."

"Do you have a craving for human flesh?" he continued.

Fred thought for a moment. "Do you mean like, craving a woman? Or like, eating their flesh?" A horrible thought crossed his mind. "Oh GOD! Do I HAVE to eat hippies? Can I please be a vegetarian zombie?"

"This is not about you being horny, you sodding idiot," Damion uttered, grabbing his head a moment. "I'm going to need a long drink after this one," he said to himself. "No, Fred, you're not a zombie and you don't have to eat anybody, but what you do on your own time is your choice. What you are is not technically dead, or UNDEAD, because you haven't really died. You've just been suspended, as it were, and changed slightly in form to take on the task of imaginary friend if you so choose it." He stopped there to allow him to process that before going any further.

"You want me to be... an IMAGINARY friend?" Fred's lip curled up at the thought. "Jesus would someone PLEASE tell me what the FUCK is going on here? You want me to be imaginary? Are you MAD?"

All of them looked at him like he were the crazy one and shouted in unison, "YES!"

"But if you'd rather be dead, then we can make that happen. I'll send you back and you'll waste away into oblivion and that'll be it," Damion added.

Fred blinked. "Well, alright then. Answers that, I suppose," he muttered, reaching up to scratch his muddy hair out of nervousness. "So, an imaginary friend, huh? Why do you want me to be one of these... things?"

"Because you've already made a tremendous difference in young Elizabeth's life," Cale said.

Axel nodded. "Yeah, she's already telling her mother things are 'full of shit.' She needs someone like you. You're special, Fred, you've got this gift of not ever having fit in elsewhere. You weren't ever made for that world in the first place. Not everyone gets to be an imaginary friend."

Fred thought about man's words for a moment. It was true, he had never 'fit in' anywhere. He thought back to Roland and Hannah. Had he truly fit in with them? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part? Seeing as how Roland had pseudo-killed him, he felt betrayed by his own misplaced trust. "Elizabeth, you say?" Fred questioned, before he mentally made the connection of who they were referring to. "You mean, the little girl on the phone?"

They all nodded.

"Yes, she's basically picked you out already. You're a perfect match for her," Axel said. "You felt a connection there, didn't you?"

Fred again furrowed his eyebrows as he mulled over the question. "I felt sorry for her. You should've heard her megabitch of a mother. That woman was dreadful."

"Which is exactly why she needs you, to show her you're not afraid of her mother and to protect her and help her through it," said Axel.

Enzo chimed in with excitement, "And you'll get magical powers for it, too! You'll basically be able to do anything out of your wildest trips, and only Elizabeth will be able to see you."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Fred said, holding his hand up. "Magical powers? What're you on about? There's no such thing as magic."

"Pffft!" Enzo said. "How do you think you got here?"

Fred rubbed his eyes and groaned. Talking to this lot was becoming mind-numbing. "Okay then, let's back up a bit. WHO the FUCK are you people, and WHERE in the FUCK am I?"

"This is the Other Otherworld," explained Enzo. "And we're—"

"Five idiots amongst a genius," Damion said, inciting a glare from Enzo.

"…gods," Enzo finished.

Bastion bounced around with impatience. "This is the place where all humans who are chosen to be imaginary friends go. The others..." He stopped and ran his finger along his neck and made a ripping noise. "...simply disappear."

Cale grinned now. "So you're one of the lucky blokes to get an afterlife, you lucky bastard, you."

Fred took a good look at each one of the men standing in front of him. "Alright, but why is he wearing a dress?" he asked, pointing at Enzo.

Enzo straightened and pushed out his chest. He tilted his head up ever so slightly as he answered, "Because I feel it makes me look pretty. This place needed a bit of a change. So dark and gloomy."

Damion rubbed his eyes. "Or more precisely, because he's a fucking loon wearing milkmaid's frock."

"Shut up! I am not!"

"I will use this shovel and BURY YOU this second—"

"Gentleman!" Bastion shouted. "And lady," he snidely added in with a smirk. Enzo glared at him and balled up his fist in threat. "...we need to get back to Fred."

They all rolled their eyes.

"Oh, alright," Damion said.

Fred gave the lot a wary look. "Oooookay then. So, explain to me about these magical powers. What will I be able to do exactly?"

Axel shrugged and stared at a smudge on the back of his thumb. "Anything, really. Teleport, make things appear and disappear, morph, bounce off walls like rubber, glow in the dark, shrink, grow, and lots of other fun parlor tricks the kids love."

"Is there some sort of mumbo jumbo I have to say in order to do all of this? Like an incantation or something?"

Damion threw his head back and laughed. "Of course there is!" he lied. "It's bibbidi bobbidi boo."

"Seriously?"

"No, you twit! That would be absolutely time consuming and ridiculous!" he shot back. "Now, is there anything ELSE you'd like to know?"

Fred nodded his head slowly. "So, how do I learn how to do all this? Are one of you going to teach me?"

"You know, he's asked the most questions I think out of any of them," Damion remarked. "Bloody absolutely astonishing. Pluck a crazy bastard out of the mud and he's full of rationalizations and questions." He shook his head. "Yes, Fred, we'll put you in some training and then send you on your way. Now, are you willing to be Elizabeth's imaginary friend or not?"

Fred let out a sigh. His options were this, or being cast into oblivion. But still, he had some trepidations about this whole imaginary friend thing.

He pushed himself up off the floor and looked at the group of crazy men. "I'm a bit nervous about all this, but seeing as you've got be backed up in a corner, there's not much I can do." He frowned as he tried to wipe some of the dried mud off his jacket. "What if Elizabeth doesn't like me?"

Enzo smiled. "I very clearly remember her saying she already did earlier."

"Oh yes," Cale said with a nod. "She's been wishing to talk to you again since the phone conversation."

Axel tilted his head at Fred. "What makes you think she wouldn't?"

Fred shrugged his shoulders. "I've never gotten along with anyone. I'd hate to be a disappointment, especially to a child." He shuffled his feet nervously. "What if I fail at this?"

"It's that level of caring that's going to get you through it and make you a perfect fit for this job," Cale said. "And, you're just crazy enough to do it all right. We've never had any failures with anyone we've picked and—"

Axel cleared his throat. "Never Say No Wednesdays..." he coughed, looking upward.

"Alright!" Cale shouted. "You'll do fine, Fred."

Fred let out a huge sigh of relief. "Well then, I suppose I only have one last question."

Damion's eyes went wide with shock. "Just one? Alright, what is it?"

Fred gave him a mischievous smile. "When do we get started?"

"Right away." He held out his shovel and used it like a king in a knighting ceremony. "I dub thee, Drop Dead Fred." Grinning, he smacked the shovel down hard on his skull, sending up sparks of green light.


	2. Chapter One: Accidents Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's life is picking up until an accident changes everything and sends Drop Dead Fred to ask for the biggest favor imaginable in order to save her. Starts with the origin of how Fred became an imaginary friend. FredXLizzie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes: This chapter picks up now a few weeks after the movie.Yes, it's sad at the end, but we promise in a few chapters you will LOVE US. It will be okay.
> 
> Disclaimer: Still no claims to Fred and we're not making any profits off this.

 

 

**Chapter One**

_Accidents Happen  
_

_(1991, Twenty-two years later…)_

Lizzie parked her car in front of her mother's house and sighed, shooting a look of contempt toward her destination. Helping her mother go through boxes sent to her from her estranged, and now deceased, brother George's estate was not how she preferred to spend her Saturday. Her mother had insisted she couldn't handle this alone (the 'grief being all too much to bear') and like an idiot she had caved.

Lizzie may have been out from under her mother's clutches, but she had agreed only on the pretenses that death was hard for everyone and her mother might actually need her. She just hoped this wasn't a grief-laced trap.

Sighing again, she stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her. At least she had plans with Mickey and his daughter later that evening which would help lighten her mood if anything went awry. Things were surprisingly going well between them.

Her mother suddenly opened the door before she could knock.

"Elizabeth!" she cried, flinging her arms out and pulling her in for a hug. Lizzie kept her arms down at her sides as her mother dramatically squeezed her.

"Hi…" she said awkwardly.

Polly pulled back and glared at her. "You're ten minutes late. I had breakfast waiting, but I had to throw it out since it looked like you weren't coming. If you want anything you're gonna have to make it yourself." She walked back toward the dining area where boxes and papers were strewn about the table. "Thank you for coming though, Elizabeth. You don't know what this means to me." She stopped and smiled at her daughter and Lizzie couldn't tell if her mother was moved or straining to cry.

Now she remembered why she had avoided the place like the plague ever since telling Drop Dead Fred goodbye.

"Okay, Mother, where would you like me to start?"

"I want you to start going through that box there and set aside anything that looks valuable enough to sell. I'll be in the kitchen finishing up the dishes for the breakfast you missed, so I won't be immediately joining you." She forced another smile at her daughter and left the room.

Lizzie turned to the box and grumbled, "Missed you too, Mother. Sorry to see you're so broken up about Uncle George!" She tore it open and contorted her face as she wiggled mockingly, pulling an old photo album from the box. Her forehead wrinkled with interest. She had always wondered what Uncle George had been like. After all, he couldn't have been that bad if her mother hated him.

Taking up a seat at the table, she opened the album and her eyes widened at finding a flyer dated from 1969 for Woodstock. She choked a little. It was a hard to imagine someone so closely related to her mother going to something like that. She set the flyer down beside her and started turning through some of the pages.

A lot of the photos were blurred and overexposed, which wasn't very surprising given the place they were taken. She could make a few guesses why her mother wanted nothing to do with Uncle George now.

Lizzie smirked and thumbed faster through the album, until landing on a page with a single photo actually in focus. It was of her uncle; she'd seen enough photos of him to recognize his face.

Smiling, she pulled the picture from the page and carefully looked over the people around him, trying to imagine what had been taking place at that very moment. Her eyes drifted to a certain man in the background and that's when Lizzie's heart almost stopped.

Behind her uncle was an orange-haired man who looked exactly like Drop Dead Fred.

Lizzie jumped to her feet so fast she knocked the chair over behind her. "Oh my God! That's— It isn't!" she cried, holding the photograph closer, but her eyes widened even more. "It is! B-but… but… HOW?!" It was undeniable. He was even making the same facial expression she'd seen Fred use a million times when he was pissed off at someone. "Drop Dead Fred?" she whispered to the picture.

"What did you just say?" Polly asked from the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed.

Lizzie jumped. "Uh, nothing. I just, nevermind," she tucked the photo into the back of her skirt and cleared her throat. "I just remembered something, that's all."

Polly eyed her suspiciously. "Could you remember things without wrecking my furniture, then?"

Lizzie turned and noticed the fallen dining chair. "Sorry," she said, picking it up. "I'll get back to work."

"Thank you," Polly said, giving her a disapproving once over before heading back into the kitchen. "Should've bought rubber furniture…"

Lizzie pulled out the photo again for another look, just to prove she wasn't losing her mind, but the Fred look-a-like was still there, glaring and tossing up a 'V' with his fingers.

"It's uncanny…" She smiled, but tried to tell herself that couldn't be her old best friend. At least she was pretty certain. Still, she felt like keeping it as some sort of memento and tucked it safely into her purse before getting back to work. The faster she did this, the quicker she could get over to Mickey's house.

* * *

Five hours later, Lizzie had made her escape and was speeding off to Mickey's as if it would erase the entire afternoon from her mind forever. It was amazing how long her mother could go on about George's 'inconsiderate and inhuman decision' to leave her to deal with his things after his death because he was 'too thoughtless to ever think of her feelings in a period of such great mourning.' It had left Lizzie wanting to be inconsiderate herself just to end the grating conversation. In the end she had ended up doing all the work because Polly had been too 'grief stricken' to remember there was sorting to do and only handled a box of tissues.

Sighing, Lizzie turned onto Mickey's street and noticed that his truck and tools were blocking the driveway. He'd probably been having trouble with it starting again, and since it was street cleaning day she was forced to park across the street in order to avoid another ticket.

Putting on the emergency brake, she grabbed her purse and hurried to the front door, giving it a knock. It quickly opened to reveal Mickey's smiling face.

"Lizzie! Hi! How'd today go with your mother?"

"It, uh... went," she said, holding her head a moment. "I think she worked harder on acting bereaved than she did actual work."

"Well your mother is a piece of work herself," Mickey joked. "Come on in and make yourself at home. Natalie's upstairs playing in her room." He held the door open wide enough to let Lizzie come inside.

"Thanks," she said, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek before heading in. She laid her purse down on the coffee table in the living room and smiled at him. "So, how's your day been?"

"Long and boring, and the truck's carburetor is acting up again." Mickey sighed. "Hopefully I can get it fixed tomorrow, that is, if you'd possibly come over and give me a ride," he said, giving her a sweet smile.

"Of course," she said, moving to sit on the couch. "Your truck's just rescued me from another day of 'fun.'" She smiled, not noticing Natalie had crawled into the hallway and was crouching before the upstairs banister, her eyes peering between the rails. Fred was poised behind her with his hands on his hips and looking put out as he stared down at the couple in the living room.

"Oi! Why are you watching them? We're supposed to be playing hide and seek! Not gawking at a fartpants and a snotface!"

Natalie stuck her tongue out at Fred and fell back on her heels. She slouched and pouted at him. "How come you never wanna play with them too?" she asked.

"Well fine, let's ask them, eh?" Fred popped away from Natalie and appeared next to Mickey. "Hey, Fartpants! Wanna play pin the tail on the donkey?" Fred shouted in his face. Mickey obviously didn't see or hear him, but that didn't stop the orange-haired man from rambling on and pointing at Lizzie. "Here, have her bend over. Snotface can go first!"

Natalie started laughing really hard up at the top of the stairs and Lizzie's head whipped around to see her falling back and shaking in a fit of giggles on the floor. A sudden feeling of unease struck Lizzie as she wondered what exactly had just happened, or more importantly, what was about to befall them…

Clearing her throat, she forced a smile at Natalie and asked, "What's so funny?" The little girl managed to sit back up, her face red from the exertion.

"Nothing," she said, trying to cover her smile, but watching Fred was starting to make her laugh again. "Fred just wants you to bend over."

Lizzie's eyes went wide. "He WHAT?!"

"Are you deaf?! She said I wanted you to BEND OVER! God, you're such a snotface," Fred mocked. He turned to Mickey and started in on him. "And what a pathetic fartface you are! You can't even pin the tail on the snotface correctly!" He scowled up at Natalie. "Seriously, I can't work with this!" he cried as he gestured to the two adults.

Mickey turned to look up at his daughter. "Natalie, didn't we talk about this Drop Dead Fred business?"

Fred spun around and glared at Mickey. "OI! Don't be spreading dirty rumors about me! I'll tell Snotface here about the shag mags under your pillows!"

Natalie stopped laughing over Fred and glared at her father. "Yeah, but he said you're wrong and not to listen to you because you're stupid!" she replied, standing up and crossing her arms.

Biting her lip, Lizzie really wished she could make a hasty retreat right about now. It got really uncomfortable for her when Mickey started demanding Natalie stop believing in Drop Dead Fred, and it was becoming increasingly harder to hold her tongue.

"That's enough, young lady," Mickey replied. "Now apologize to Lizzie!"

Fred smirked at Natalie. "Just say, 'Okay Daddy, I'm sorry you're stupid.'"

Natalie snickered and tried to hold a straight face, "Okay, Daddy. I'm sorry you're stupid," she parroted.

Lizzie had to cover her mouth to hide her own smile because she had a very strong feeling where that response had come from. "I-it's okay, Mickey. Really," Lizzie tried to say, but there was a crack in her voice from fighting off a laugh.

"At least the snotface has a sense of humor." Fred snorted. He turned to Mickey and stuck out his tongue.

Meanwhile, Mickey's face had turned red from embarrassment. "Natalie. Room. NOW," he said sternly, shoving his finger towards her room. "Move it, missy!"

Fred materialized next to Natalie and put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, there's better games to play in your room. These adults are DIS-GUS-TING!" He flicked his hands about as he said it and spat.

Natalie kept glaring at her father, but dropped her head back to look up at Fred. He was right, but she had one thing she wanted to say to her father first. She looked down at him and let out a high pitched scream. Lizzie's hands flew to cover her ears and Natalie didn't let up until she ran out of breath. Spinning about, she grabbed Fred's hand and marched off to her room, making sure to slam the door behind her.

Lizzie awkwardly looked back at Mickey. "Wow…"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "She just started doing that a week ago," he said. "I seriously hope it's just a phase."

"Mickey, I know this might not be my place, but maybe you should go a little easier on her about Drop Dead Fred. She needs him for something," she said, tensing slightly.

"For what? Driving me to drink? Because he's sure doing a hell of a job in getting me there," he said with a snort. He shook his head one last time. "Let's forget this, come on in the kitchen. I'll fix us a cup of coffee."

* * *

Up in her room, Natalie sat on the floor, swiping a Barbie doll back and forth like she were mopping with its hair. "Why is he so mean, and why does he have to hate you so much?" She growled.

"Simple. I'm cooler than he is," Fred replied as he pulled at the lapel of his jacket. "And he's jealous that I'm such an awesome guy. Can he make you laugh like I do?"

Natalie cracked a smile and giggled softly. "No. No one's as funny as you." She stopped dragging her doll and sighed, straightening its hair. "I'm sorry I tried to make you play with them. Sometimes I just wish they could see you so I don't get in trouble."

Fred sat on the floor next to her. "Who cares what anyone else thinks. You need to be yourself. Always. You're great. You know that, right?"

Natalie wrinkled her nose up at Fred. "I don't know," she said. "Sometimes I think I'm kinda stupid and that's why everyone ignores me." She leaned her head against his shoulder and Fred frowned, putting his arm around the little girl to comfort her.

"You're not stupid, but your dad is for acting like he does. You had to apologize for his stupidity earlier. Remember?" Fred gave her a small nudge. "Besides, that snotface laughed at what you said. She was paying attention to you and found you funny."

Natalie cracked a smile and wrapped her arms around Fred in a tight hug. "Yeah, she seems alright." She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Hey, Fred? What're shag mags?"

Fred gave her a snigger. "We'll have to go liberate those from your dad's room later and give them as a present to the snotface. But for now, let's finish our game of hide and seek… And since you didn't want to hide earlier, it's my turn now!" he exclaimed, reaching out tickle the little girl between her ribs.

Natalie squealed and fell back, kicking her legs. "Fred!" She couldn't say anything else as she was laughing too hard and extremely ticklish.

"Oi! Get to counting! I'm gonna go hide," Fred said as he pushed himself off the floor. "And if you cheat I'm gonna rub a bogey in your hair!" Fred yanked open the bedroom door and took off down the hallway. He made his way downstairs and was fixing to hide in the pantry underneath the stairwell when he heard Lizzie's voice from the kitchen.

"So what else did you have planned for this evening?" Lizzie asked, sipping the coffee and trying really hard to swallow it. Mickey made TERRIBLE coffee. Right now she'd rather taste one of Fred's mud pies than this, but he was so sweet that she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She could tell he was trying to make up for what happened with Natalie.

"Well, I thought we could all go out for pizza, pending if Natalie can behave," Mickey said. "I swear she's really been outta control for the past few weeks. I don't know what to do with her."

Fred gave snort from the behind the staircase. "Pay attention to her, you wanker. That'd solve the majority of your problems," he said to no one in particular. His eyes wandered to Lizzie and he smiled warmly. "See you're doing well, Snotface. Too bad you can't see me. You, Natalie, and me would have a blast," he murmured to himself.

Lizzie put down the cup. "Maybe you should try having some fun with her?" she suggested. "Natalie's probably lonely." _And if you quit getting upset with her and her only friend that would help too_ , she thought. This would be so much easier to explain to him if Mickey wouldn't lock her up for adding in all she really wanted to say.

"Oh, here!" she said quickly, "I forgot I brought something for you and Natalie. Be right back." She got up and retrieved her purse from the living room, rummaging through it as she returned to her seat in the kitchen. She stopped when her fingers brushed against the photo from earlier and absentmindedly plucked it from the bag for another look.

"What's this a picture of?" Mickey asked, leaning closer and almost touching his forehead with Lizzie's. "How old is this?"

Fred felt his chest tighten up at the sight of Mickey moving within Lizzie's personal bubble. "We need to work on your choice of men, Snotface," he growled as he made his way into the kitchen, his curiosity getting the better of him. He moved behind Lizzie to try and inspect what she was showing Mickey.

"Oh, it's just, um, a photo of my uncle. The one that just passed away. Apparently, it was taken at Woodstock," she said, slightly embarrassed about getting so sidetracked. At least Mickey didn't know what Fred looked like.

Fred leaned over Lizzie's shoulder and spied at the photograph. Her uncle was standing there with some tart on his arm and giving the camera the peace sign.

"Wow, your uncle was at Woodstock? That's pretty cool, Lizzie," Mickey replied.

"Yeah." She smiled. "It's just something I ended up keeping today before my mother threw it away." She looked at it and smiled. "Would you think I was crazy if I told you something though? I, uh, actually didn't keep the photo because of my uncle. See this man back here?" She pointed to the orange-haired man in the background. "He just reminded me of someone I use to know." She wanted to at least try to share something with Mickey, even if it wasn't the full truth.

"Orange hair?! Let me see that!" Fred yelled, fully leaning over Lizzie's shoulder. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. "I'll be dammed." The pit of his stomach began to knot as a flood of memories came crashing into his mind. He scowled when he finally recognized Lizzie's uncle. "The bastard wouldn't let me use the phone... but I taught him a thing or two!"

"Remind you of someone?" Mickey looked at the picture closely. "That guy there? He looks like a freak. Probably a stoner."

"I was on acid, you twat." Fred growled into Mickey's face.

Lizzie tried not to make any sort of facial expression at Mickey's comment. "He just reminds me of an old friend," she said, tucking the photo back into her purse. "It's not something I think you'd understand... Um..." She felt around for what she was looking for in the first place and pulled out three movie tickets. "Here. I got some tickets for this weekend to take Natalie to that movie she's been wanting to see." She handed them to Mickey and bit her lip.

Fred gazed at Lizzie's profile and gave her a sad smile. He realized she missed him and the feeling was mutual. He let out a sigh and retreated from the kitchen to his pre-selected hiding spot under the stairs. Natalie would be looking for him any minute.

Mickey took the tickets from Lizzie. "Thanks, Lizzie. As long as Natalie behaves I'm sure we'll make it to the movies. Maybe this will be a bit of an incentive."

Lizzie gave him a smile, but inside she felt rather mopey. She liked Mickey and their growing relationship, but certain topics really held her back from him and she didn't like not completely being herself. "I figured it would help bring everyone closer together and—"

She stopped as her eyes skated past the kitchen window. There was a cop outside trying to give her a ticket.

"Shit! What the hell?!" she cried, jumping up and forgetting all about Mickey. She raced for the front door and ran outside, focusing already on what she was going to say to try and get out of paying for her third ticket in a month. This really needed to stop happening. She was so livid right now she couldn't see straight.

Stepping off the curb, she heard a loud honk from a truck careening down the street and swerving toward her. Lizzie had no chance to move and the vehicle plowed into her, sending her flying with the sickening crunch of metal and flesh. Lizzie's body landed about twenty feet later and rolled several more while the truck screeched to a halt and left a trail of thick, black tire marks and the smell of burning rubber. The cop rushed to her side as Mickey rushed up and dropped to his knees at Lizzie's side.

"Oh my god! Someone call an ambulance!" he screamed, too much in shock to notice the officer. His stomach turned at the sight of protruding bones from Lizzie's legs and arms and the blood already soaking her blouse where a rib had torn through. The image of the accident seemed to play out in slow motion in his mind and his body violently shook as he didn't know what to do. He'd been just steps behind her, intending to calm her down, but he'd been too late…

Fred materialized outside at the sound of Mickey's shrieking voice. "God, he even SOUNDS like a girl—"

His rant stopped as he saw Lizzie's lifeless body lying in the middle of the road and his heart caught in his chest. All of a sudden he found it extremely hard to breathe. He let out a gasp. "Elizabeth?"

The man driving the truck tried unsuccessfully to start up the vehicle as the cop rushed over and pulled open its door. "Sir, get out of the truck NOW," he barked.

The driver, who was clearly intoxicated, stumbled out and swayed. His eyes were so glossed over, he didn't even seem fully aware of what he had just done. The cop pushed the button on his radio. "This is Officer Carlton. I need an ambulance at 415 Whitman Avenue. I have a female pedestrian who's just been hit by a vehicle." Confirmation was heard and he grabbed and led the driver over to his car, cuffing him and placing him into the backseat.

Hurrying back to the woman, he found there was blood underneath her now. He looked at the man crouched beside her. "Stay back, Sir," he said to Mickey, reaching out to feel for a pulse. Unable to detect one, he quickly leaned down and put his face over her mouth. There was the slightest hint of breath. "I can't feel a pulse, but she's breathing," the officer told him. Neighbors were coming out of their homes now, gawking from their driveways.

Fred stood there dumbstruck as he watched the scene play out in front of him. He willed his body to move towards Lizzie, but noticed Natalie from the corner of his eye. He was immediately torn between checking on Lizzie and stopping Natalie from seeing the accident. He let out a strangled moan as he knew what decision he had to make.

Turning, he bolted for Natalie. "Don't look! Go back inside!" he yelled.

Natalie fearfully looked at Fred. He never yelled at her. "What's wrong? Why can't I go outside? Where's my dad and Lizzie?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She shrank back inside, knowing it must be bad if Fred was being serious.

"Just trust me, okay? Go back up to your room, I'll be there in a minute," Fred gently reassured her.

"Okay..." she said with worry in her eyes.

Fred watched the little girl ascend the stairs before turning to run back out to the street. By the time he had gotten there, numerous people had gathered around to watch. Fred materialized next to Mickey, and leaned down to get a good look at Lizzie's blood-stained face. "Elizabeth, open your eyes."

Sirens were heard from the line of police cars, fire trucks, and the ambulance that were coming down the street. Fred felt his stomach drop. There was so much blood and so little movement from Lizzie. Tears started to well up in his eyes. This was real, no jokes or play acting and he winced in pain as the thought of Lizzie dying became all too real for his imaginary being to process. "'Lisbeth... please... don't leave."


	3. Chapter Two: Dealing with Devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's life is picking up until an accident changes everything and sends Drop Dead Fred to ask for the biggest favor imaginable in order to save her. Starts with the origin of how Fred became an imaginary friend. FredXLizzie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Notes:
> 
> zombierose3: I'm SO sorry I took forever to edit this! I'm getting myself in gear to get the rest posted ASAP. For those who waited patiently, I hope it was worth the wait and thank you so much to all the silent readers, reviewers, and the people who favorited. You're all awesome and those who recently poked me for more chapters on Tumblr and fanfiction.net, I dedicate this to you because otherwise I'd still be sitting on my butt. Please read and review. XOXO
> 
> Halo4anoose: Actually blame me, I’m a horrible person for not being motivated. I was distracted by other fandom penises. Those penises know who they belong to. My fandom penis obsession may actually be a problem, and they say the first step to healing is admitting you have an addiction. Strange place for me to begin the healing process, but hey, gotta start somewhere… the struggle is real people!
> 
> Disclaimer: We still don’t own Drop Dead Fred and we're not making a single profit off of this.

* * *

 

**Chapter Two**

Dealing with Devils

* * *

 

Polly Cronin entered the halls of Abbott Northwestern Hospital, dressed in black and reeking of the six cigarettes she'd smoked on the drive over. The seventh in her anxiety-fueled chain rested between her thumb and forefinger, drawing the gaze of the building’s elderly security guard. His disapproving growl immediately shook Polly from her stupor.

“You need to either put that out or go outside,” he said, standing from behind the desk.

“Excuse me?” Polly stared, confusion highlighted by annoyance etched on her face. It wasn’t until her trembling hand lifted the item in question to her lips that she realized what she’d done, and Polly visibly flinched at her carelessness.

“Oh…” She faltered, noticing the handful of onlookers glaring with disapproval. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” Her expression held little remorse, however, as she hurried outside for the nearest ashtray to extinguish the cause of her embarrassment.

This day just continued to grow worse…

When Mickey Bunce had phoned about Elizabeth's accident Polly's first thoughts had been that her daughter had masterminded some sick prank to punish her again, but a quick call to confirm with the hospital had proven her wrong. From then on, she'd cancelled all appointments regarding her brother's estate, phoned both Nigel and Charles, and rushed down to the hospital after rekindling her old smoking habit.

"I swear, Elizabeth, one day you're going to succeed in killing me," she whispered as she checked her watch. Nigel and Charles were probably still on their way, which left this whole nightmare solely in her hands.

Breathing deep and smoothing the fabric of her dress, Polly strode back inside the hospital and avoided all eye contact as she hurried to her destination. Several long corridors later and she found the two large doors leading to the intensive care unit.

Her footsteps immediately slowed, a lead-like weight overtaking her body. She hadn't expected to find it so soon, but then the past hour had been nothing but a blur. She pushed through the doors. The nurse's station was just ahead.

Clearing her throat, Polly approached the blonde-haired nurse seated on the other side. “Excuse me," she said. "I'm Elizabeth Cronin's mother. Could you please tell me which room she's in?”

"Of course." The young woman swiveled in her chair, grabbing a chart from the wall hook at her left and flipping through the first few pages. "She's in room ten, but..." The nurse paused as she finished reading over the notes. “I'm afraid the doctor isn't allowing visitors just yet."

"And why not?" Polly asked, her brows narrowing with sudden impatience.

The nurse shifted uncomfortably. "He's awaiting the results of a few more tests–”

"And how long will that take?"

"I don't know, but–"

"Then what can you tell me about my daughter's condition now?" Polly leaned against the countertop, trying to get a peek at the open chart.

"I'm sorry," the nurse answered, flipping the chart shut with the flick of her wrist, "but you'll have to wait and speak with the doctor about that." Her voice was firm and her eyes gave off a warning. "If you'll just have a seat, I'll tell him you've arrived." She motioned toward the waiting area as she picked up the phone to page the doctor.

“Alright... Thank you.” Polly feigned a smile, which twisted into a sneer as she turned for the waiting area. _So much for that_ , she thought, but a familiar face ahead quickly refocused her attention. “Mickey Bunce?”

The man in question looked up from his seat, a look of anguish seizing his features as he recognized Polly Cronin. "Yes, Ma'am," he answered quietly. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

“I did the best I could under the circumstances. This is, after all, the furthest hospital from my house; I’m not very familiar with the area.” She paused, but not long enough to allow Mickey a response. “I tried speaking with the nurse; she couldn’t tell me a damn thing.”

Her gaze skated back toward the nurse’s station with disdain as she took up an empty seat by the windows. “I’m worried sick and nobody can give me any answers. She’s been here over an hour. How is it they can’t tell me something?” Polly felt her head beginning to throb and she exhaled in momentary defeat.

Looking now toward Mickey, she straightened in her chair. “Tell me what happened. How bad… was the accident?”

Mickey rubbed his hands over his face at that question. He hadn’t expected to relive the horrific accident so soon. Though it was all he could think about for the past hour, the words to describe it still eluded him; the shock almost too great.

“She, she ran out into the street for her car. She was trying to stop an officer from writing her a ticket…” Mickey took a deep breath and steeled himself for the next part. “A… a truck – The man, he was drunk, and driving SO fast… He hit her. Head on.”

Polly’s hands gripped the armrests to her chair, her headache now overshadowed by the gut-wrenching sickness seeded in her stomach.

This was much worse than she had expected.

"I don’t believe it… All for a parking ticket?” Polly’s mouth remained agape as she struggled to process this absurd cause for her daughter’s condition. It didn’t seem real. How could something like this happen?

“Did… did they catch the man responsible?” she finally managed to ask. “Do you know if she’s awake?"

Mickey tried his best to give Polly as much information as he could, while his daughter sat alone across the waiting area…

 

* * *

From the corner, Natalie fended off tears and watched the hallway for any signs of Drop Dead Fred. He’d left a while ago in search of Lizzie’s room, but not before making her promise to stay strong for him until he got back.

So far, Natalie didn't think she was doing a very good job.

She was scared, her dad kept ignoring her, and the room was cold with a funny smell. All she wanted was to go home, back to the way things were suppose to be, back to when her parents were still together so none of this would have happened. Then Lizzie and everything would be okay. Forever.

A sudden flash of green from down the hall stabilized her emotions and she watched as Fred hurried toward her to take her hand. The sad expression on his face didn’t go unnoticed by Natalie and she felt the lump in her throat grow ten times bigger.

 

* * *

Fred tightly gripped the little girl's hand. His mind seemed to be going a mile a minute as the situation before him was unprecedented concerning his abilities.

Over the years, he had dealt with numerous troubled children— it was his specialty— but none of them had ever been witness to an event so traumatic.

 _Well okay, perhaps that’s just a bit overstated,_ he thought to himself. She hadn’t actually seen the accident firsthand, but she’d certainly been dragged through the emotional ringer.

Fred found himself at a loss for words; his inner turmoil bubbling over inside his mind as he desperately tried not to show Natalie how upset he was. One of his best friends lay seriously injured, but his responsibilities to his new charge came first.

This fact, however, didn't squelch the battle raging between his loyalties and the emotions attached, which savagely flung him from the child in front of him to the broken woman down the hall. A wave of defeat washed over him as he silently endured his breaking heart.

“She's going to be fine, Natalie. She'll be okay after she takes a nap." Fred barely noticed her response as his attention became ensnared by Fartpants and the Megabeast’s conversation…

 

* * *

"They arrested the guy,” Mickey said, continuing on goal to tell Polly everything. “He was drunk, that’s all I know about him, but… Lizzie…" His voice collapsed, a small sniffle escaping him as he tried hard not to break down in front of Lizzie's mother. "Lizzie wasn't moving, and there was so... so much blood… I even think I could see bones…" Things seemed to finally sink in and a single tear rolled down Mickey’s cheek. "The first responders kept looking at one another, just shaking their heads. They wouldn't tell me anything when they took her away— only that they were bringing her here."

Polly’s composure broke, tears welling in her eyes as her body visibly shook over the graphic imagery lighting in her mind. She wound her arms tightly around herself in an effort to prevent a total collapse. "This is unreal," she whispered, falling silent under the weight of shock, but her mind quickly resumed by twisting around in typical fashion.

If Elizabeth were this badly injured she would need someone to take care of her… She’d _need_ her again. This was not a tragedy, but an opportunity; a gift for them both.

Polly’s heart sped as plans to relocate Elizabeth from that dreadful apartment back to her old room ran rampant through her mind. Her daughter’s accident would be an end to her loneliness. There was just one problem: the financial costs of all this would be excruciating…

"I'm calling my lawyer and taking that man for everything he's got. When I'm through with him he'll be begging for the death penalty.” She took a much needed breath and started digging through her purse for a pen and paper.

“I can’t help but wonder though,” she continued, “how Elizabeth could’ve been so stupid. Crossing the street like that? That could severely hurt our case.” Polly exhaled. “God, what if this is my fault? I tried and tried to teach her how to cross the street, but did she ever listen?”

 _About as much as she did to everything else I ever told her_ , she thought.

Exasperated, Polly gave up searching her bag and grabbed her head. "I swear I’ve never needed an Aspirin so desperately in my life. It’s so infuriating. If she’d only listened… That girl is so selfish."

Mickey stared at Polly in complete disbelief. Apparently the stress of the accident had started to mess with his hearing. "Excuse me?"

"Well I’m sure you know. She's never listened to anyone. What sane adult gets so careless they step in front of a moving vehicle to avoid a ticket? This is just like Elizabeth. I swear she must have gotten this behavior from my brother." Polly looked at her watch. "Where is that doctor?"  
  
Mickey was completely at a loss for words as he watched the crass woman stalk the hallway.

 

* * *

Like Mickey, Fred was speechless. He actually thought his tongue had seized up and died from the shock. However, he had a number of ideas for other types of responses he’d love to give…

 _Bloody hell_ _._ He knew the Megabeast was mean, but he’d never thought she could be this heartless. Someone could’ve given her an award for that performance, and if they had Fred knew right where he wanted to stick it.

He suddenly gripped Natalie’s hand tighter as his anger began to boil to the surface.

“Fred?” she whispered, the pressure of his hold beginning to hurt.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he answered, still glaring over at the Megabeast, completely oblivious to everything else.

Natalie winced and tried to pull her hand back before she gave up and hit him with the other one. To her relief, the move shook him out of his daze and the grip upon her little fingers immediately released.

"I don’t believe you,” she told him.

Fred nearly convulsed. “What? Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t look so upset if it was true.” Tears filled her eyes as her bottom lip began to violently shake. “You were scared when you came out of Lizzie’s room. I saw it.”

Fred closed his eyes and took another breath. He couldn't break down, and most certainly not in front of Natalie. His emotions were already putting enough of a strain on the little girl. He needed to do something to get both their minds off things, and his gaze swung over to the two, now bickering adults.

Judging by the incredulous expression upon Mickey’s _girl_ -face, Fred would have wagered all the mud pies in the world that Polly had just said something even more repulsive, yet Oscar-worthy about Lizzie.

"The only thing I'm scared of is that evil witch over there talking to your dad."

Natalie glanced at Polly and fear knotted in her stomach. "She's really an evil witch? H-how do you know?” she asked, turning back to her friend.

“Simple.” Fred smiled. “I can smell her. She smells like mothballs and dead fish."

Natalie’s jaw dropped open and she worriedly looked at her father. "But what if she puts a spell on my dad?"

Fred followed her gaze. Mickey’s _girl_ -face looked like it had been slapped, and was right in sync with the venomous scowl worn by Polly. Watching as Mickey’s expression dissolved from disbelief to anger, an idea popped into Fred’s head.

"Your dad’s fine," he answered with a nod in Mickey's direction. "See? He's standing his ground and getting angry. The witch can't cast her spells on him when he's mad." Natalie scooted closer and Fred noticed he had her full attention now, her eyes never wavering from his face. A small amount of guilt filled him for what he had to do next, but he stamped down his emotions to carry on with his idea.

Giving the little girl a small frown, he said, "But Lizzie, she's in danger. You see, she's asleep, so she can't guard herself from the witch's evil-doings."

Natalie's eyes rounded wider. “Then what're we gonna do?" She bit her lip with obvious anticipation. "Maybe you can protect her? Or what if you kiss her, Fred, so she’ll wake up?” Her posture straightened from excitement and she beamed at him, full of hope.

 _Smiling, that’s a good sign. Think I’ve got her on board_.

Fred immediately made a face as if he had smelled something putrid. "EWWW! No! Kissing?! Kissing is for GIRLS!" He jumped from his seat and pretended to retch all over the floor. "Kissing? BLEH! That's DIS-GUS-TING!" He spat and flung himself around to stand like a gallant knight in front of Natalie. "I'm a fighter, not a lover! I slay three-headed megabeasts for breakfast!"

Natalie’s sides ached from all her laughter. "Can I watch you slay one?" she asked.

_Got her._

Fred cupped his chin, giving himself the air of a deep thinker. "It's quite messy you know. They shriek a lot and spew green slime that smells like feet. Not sure if you wanna get in the middle of that." He looked down the hall towards Lizzie's room.

 _Here goes nothing_ , he thought.

So… do you think I should go stand guard?” he asked, motioning toward Lizzie’s room. Natalie looked back at him with uncertainty.

“But what do I do while you’re gone? What if the evil witch tries to cast a spell on me?”

Fred took a long look at Polly. She'd done such a good job at upsetting Mickey that he was on his feet with his finger in her face.

 _About time_ , Fred thought, taking a moment to listen in on the two adults.

* * *

 

  
"Seriously, lady! Do you even _have_ a heart? That's your daughter in there and all you can do is say that she's done nothing but inconvenience you all day?!"

Polly's eyes flashed. "I'd get that finger out of my face if I were you. She's my daughter and I know her a lot better than you. My only brother just died and now I have to deal with this. Do you think I'm feeling very stable right now? I should sue you for negligence! After all, if it happened at your house then how come you didn't do anything to stop it?"

"Lady, you are out of your mind! I can't... I can't believe you have the audacity to even try and sue me! Besides, she was hit in the street IN FRONT of my house!” Mickey took a breath and continued before Polly could get a word in edgewise. “You should be concentrating on your daughter, not trying to make yourself feel better by suing the pants off of anyone who was there at the accident! Why don't you sue the cop that was writing her the ticket as well?! I think that about covers everyone involved, unless you also want to sue the crowd of onlookers at the scene of the accident!"

Polly gasped at Mickey. "How DARE you!"

* * *

 

  
Fred winced as the shouting got louder. _Well, while I hate the bastard, at least he can spit enough rage at that bitch for the both of us_ , he thought. _But they're both idiots. If either of them actually cared about Lizzie, they'd be in her room with her right now._

“Idon't think you have anything to worry about. Looks like the witch has her claws full." Fred placed his hands on Natalie's shoulders. "Think you can be brave and sit out here while I go protect the damsel in distress?"

With uncertainty, Natalie looked again at the adults, but the way her father shouted at the witch already had her feeling better inside. "Yeah, I can do that,” she said with a grin, “but I still think Lizzie’d wake up faster if you just kissed her!" She puckered up her lips and made smooching sounds at Fred, who immediately went into a full body spasm as if the word were some sort of poison.

"I'm gonna be sick!" he cried as he flailed like a dying man, making Natalie’s laughter grow. Fred reached out and tickled the little girl's ribs. "You keep talking about kissing I'm gonna to have to tickle you to cure myself!"

Natalie squealed and futilely writhed to evade his fingers. "Okay, okay! I'll stop! I promise!"

"Right! You'd better!" Fred replied. He straightened and gave Natalie a final look. "You stay here. I'm gonna go guard Lizzie's room."

"Alright,” she said.

Meanwhile, Polly was on a tangent. "My daughter got a ticket while parked on YOUR street. I think given these circumstances and the GALL you have to speak to me like that, you should be paying for it. If she could’ve parked in your driveway like a normal, WELCOME guest, this wouldn't have happened."

"You know something? You're nothing but a conceited BITCH!" Mickey screamed back.

Fred walked by right as Mickey pushed himself in Polly's face. "Tell her how it is, mate!" he said, leaning in at Polly with him. "She's not just a bitch, but a MEGABITCH!” he added, before turning on his heels.

 _Don’t back down, Fartpants_ , he prayed as he stalked down the hallway like a man on a mission. Mickey’s shouts followed as the ‘big girl’ finally became as belligerent as the woman he was shouting at.

"Why don't you go park across the street from my house, maybe we'll all be lucky and you'll get ran over by a truck as well. Too bad it didn't happen to YOU instead!" Mickey’s face turned varying shades of red as his anger continued to spiral out of control.

Polly gasped for all the hospital to hear. "Are you threatening me?" She turned and started shouting into the ICU. "Did everyone HEAR that?! This man has just threatened my life!"

Fred ducked into Lizzie's room as two security guards made their way down the hall toward the arguing adults.

"Well, Fartpants can be a man when he tries," he mumbled to himself and crept up to the curtain surrounding Lizzie's bed, suddenly feeling very nervous about what he was fixing to find.

When he had found the room earlier, he could only snatch a few quick glances at the woman lying the in the bed. Too many nurses had obstructed his view at the time and the only thing Fred had remotely recognized as Lizzie was the dark brown hair striking out in contrast to the white sheets and pillows.

"She's fine," he said, speaking aloud in an attempt to convince himself. "Snotface is tough. She put up with that beast of a mother for years and survived. A truck has nothing on that crazy, old witch."  
  
Closing his eyes, Fred took a deep breath and forced his head around the curtain. He braced himself for the worst, but a knot twisted inside his stomach as if it already knew something he did not. Daring to look, Fred opened his eyes and stepped into a waking nightmare.

Lizzie lay before him, hooked to various monitors and strange machines which blipped and beeped at different intervals. Tubes seemed to come from everywhere, one reaching deep into her nostril as the rest pumped fluids into the veins of her arm. A breathing apparatus embedded another tube into her throat and the hiss of the machine as it forced air to Lizzie’s lungs caused Fred to gasp and grip the curtains for balance.

Fred stood in a trance as his eyes roamed over Lizzie's body. "’Lisbeth?" he called out, his voice hitching in his throat. His best friend was nearly unrecognizable and he was in such a shock he couldn’t even feel his own body was shaking.

Contusions and stitched up gashes marred Lizzie’s now even paler and swollen face. The blood he remembered from earlier had been wiped away, but it remained so vivid in his mind he swore he could almost still see it upon her skin. The knot from his stomach now reached to his throat and Fred shivered as another hiss sounded from that awful machine boring into his friend.

“She’s fine…” he whispered to himself, barely able to speak the words. Gently he reached out and touched one of the casts covering Lizzie’s arms and trailed his fingers to the matching set upon her legs. The cold, hard material was like an anathema to him and he snatched his hand away just as Lizzie’s doctor entered the room.  
  
The man grimaced, glancing between monitors and charts while writing illegible notes onto his clipboard, completely unaware of the imaginary presence watching his every move. "Doesn't look like she's going to be able to breathe on her own," the doctor mumbled, tapping his pen against the top of the chart before adding another notation.

A blonde-haired nurse traipsed into the room behind him. "Just a warning, the mother is outside waiting to speak with you," she said, injecting a prescription into Lizzie’s IV.

"If it’s that crazy woman out there trying to sue everyone, have her wait until I’m done. I’ll send for her in for a few minutes. I just need to go over this chart again to make sure I didn’t miss anything. God forbid if I have to call legal… again." He sighed.

"Legal? AGAIN?” Fred leaned over to peer at the doctor's chart and his brow furrowed in confusion at all the medical terms. “What's that mean?" he asked, pointing at the clipboard. "Someone had better be doing something to make her better!" He knew no one could hear him, but going through the motions was cathartic to his nervousness.

The nurse stepped out of the room only to find herself face-to-face with Mrs. Cronin, who pushed her way inside the room with a scowl on her face.

“Lord, give me strength,” the doctor muttered.

Fred snorted. “You're gonna need more than divine intervention to deal with her.”

As if on cue, Polly clutched her heart in dramatic display and practically flung herself passed the nurse’s attempts to stop her. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her hands sliding to cover her gaping mouth. The doctor nodded for his nurse to make her escape.

“Is she going to be alright?” Polly asked.

“You’re the mother, I presume?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered, glancing at the name embroidered on his white coat, “Doctor Baird, I’d like some answers about my daughter’s condition.”

The younger man looked back at her with practiced sympathy. "I'm afraid your daughter’s in very bad shape. She's got broken ribs, broken arms and legs, two punctured lungs, multiple contusions and lacerations, internal bleeding, a cracked skull with encephalitis of the brain, and her vital and brainwave signs aren’t promising. We've also had to revive her twice, and her lungs have collapsed three times, once before even making it to the hospital.” Doctor Baird paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in with the stricken woman. When she didn’t offer any comments or questions, he proceeded.

“I'm sorry to say that right now, this machine is the only thing keeping her alive, and even if she did wake up, the amount of times we've brought her back might have had detrimental effects to her cognitive function and quality of life."

Polly was stunned and openly gaped at the doctor. "Are you saying my daughter... that... that there's nothing you can do for her?"  
  
Fred zeroed in on the woman's face and noticed that there were unshed tears in her eyes, but the doctor’s voice stole back his attention.

“I'm saying that you might want to consider what's best at this point for both her and your family."

Fred felt his heart plummet. The long list of injuries the doctor had rattled off had made his head spin. He wasn't entirely sure what the man was trying to get at, but by the look on everyone's faces the situation with Lizzie was extremely bleak.

"You're suggesting I pull the plug?" asked Polly.

Doctor Baird pursed his lips together. "I can't make you do that, but in this case, yes, I would gravely consider it.”

Fred gave Polly a confused look.  "Pull the plug? Which plug are you gonna pull?" He took another look at Lizzie and all the contraptions she was hooked up to. "Will plug-pulling make her better?” He leaned over and started inspecting each one. "Hey, Megabitch! You’ve got a red cord, two black cords, and a grey cord." He bent down further and plucked up the red one. "I think you should pull out this one. Lizzie hates the color red; makes sense to me!" His gaze moved back to Polly just in time to watch the color drain from her face.

"This is a mother's worst nightmare..." she whispered. "You never think your child is going to die before you, and— You expect me to make that decision? To just pull the plug and let her go?" Tears broke loose from her eyes at the possibility of losing her only child; the only person she had left in her life. “This isn’t suppose to happen this way… She’s, she’s not suppose to leave me.”

Doctor Baird placed a hand on her shoulder. "If you want I can have a grief counselor come down and help you with anything you need, but it's important you're certain about whatever you decide. I’m sorry we can’t do any more… Does Miss Cronin have any other relatives you'd like us to notify? A husband? Children?"

Polly shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No. Only an ex-husband she couldn't hold onto. No children."

As Fred listened to the conversation the realization of what the doctor was saying finally struck home and he yanked his hand away from the red cord as if it had burned him. "NO! YOU CAN'T!" he cried. "She'll die! What's wrong with you?!"

He looked down at Lizzie's bruised face and felt his lungs deflate in defeat. "Why would you do this?" he asked nobody in particular, his voice coming out in a strained whisper. He reached out to gently stroke her cheek and his hand began to tremble, not out of fear, but out of anger.

Suddenly balling his hand into a fist, he spun back around to face Polly. "You're nothing but an evil cunt! Why are you doing this?! WHY?!" he screamed, his chest swelling up from the pain he was feeling in his heart.

"Alright then," said Doctor Baird, glancing over his chart once more before setting it in the holder at the foot of Lizzie’s bed. "I'll leave you to your decision." He offered one more sympathetic expression before quickly exiting the room.

Polly exhaled, visibly trembling as she approached the bedside. "How could this happen?” she whispered, reaching out to stroke the top of her daughter's head. “How could you do this and leave me here with this decision?” Fresh tears found their way onto her cheeks. “I've always loved you and you never once tried to show it back and this is how you're going to leave me? After everything?" Her voice shook under the strain of saying the words.

Fred glared at the nasty woman in front of him. "Love her? All you've ever shown your daughter is how controlling and belittling you can be!" He growled through clenched teeth. "You don't love her. If you did, 'pulling the plug' wouldn't be such a novel idea, would it?" His gaze moved back to Lizzie's comatose body. He felt like his chest was being constricted. His heart was beating so fast he wondered for a moment if it was possible for an imaginary friend to actually have a heart attack.

Fred banished the ridiculous thought from his head as he gripped the handrails of the bed so hard his knuckles whitened. "Are you even going to let her father come see her broken body? Or are you going to be the hateful wench we all know you to be?" He seethed.

Polly grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and dabbed her eyes. "I'll never forgive you for this. If... if I'd known it would come to this I would’ve never had a child." She wiped away a final tear before balling the tissue up in anger and tossing it into the trash. Her pulse raced and it suddenly felt very hard to breathe. Staggering away from the bed, Polly propped herself up against the doorframe to catch her breath.

"God, now I'm going to have to bother with funeral arrangements. It's going to financially ruin what I have in my savings." She stared forlornly over at Lizzie. "And I suppose I'm going to have to tell Charles and your father about this... Let them all say goodbye..."

Fred sneered at Polly. "How utterly gracious of you to allow her father a final goodbye," he said, sarcasm dripping from each word. He grabbed Lizzie's lifeless hand; it still felt warm to the touch. _She isn't cold and dead yet, but give her mother enough time and she will be._ He knew if her mother had anything to say about it WITHOUT repercussions, she'd have already given the doctors the authorization to kill Lizzie off.

Fred sighed and ran his free hand over his face. "This isn't happening. It can’t happen. It's not fair!" His other hand squeezed Lizzie’s lifeless one, and he desperately wished that she would squeeze it back. When she didn't respond, Fred gently released it and walked to the opposite side of the room, away from Polly. He leaned toward the window and took a look outside as his thoughts tumbled around within his head.  

"You don't deserve this," he whispered. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the windowpane. "Just a few hours ago, you were so full of life. Standing in Fartpant's kitchen, making plans to go to the movies, sharing pictures—"

He stopped his rambling as his mind kicked into overdrive. _Maybe, just maybe, there’s a way._

Spinning around, Fred gave Lizzie's unconscious form a final look of desperation. "Snotface, I need you to stay alive long enough for me to go and see a few people."

He walked back over to the bed and gave her cheek another soft touch. "They... they gave me a chance. Why shouldn't they give you a chance as well?" His eyes traveled back to Polly and he gave her a hardened stare. "You'd better not kill her off before I get back, or else... there's going to be hell to pay."

* * *

 

The blinding whiteness of the Other Otherworld’s domain always gave Damion a headache. Well, maybe it wasn’t just the lack of color; the other five dunderheads he shared it with had a whole hell of a lot to do with it as well.

Whoever’s idea it had been to create such a place and stick him with five other men must have been evilly brilliant or completely bored.

Damion scowled. _Probably a bit of both. Best practical joke ever._ He rolled his eyes and growled at the other occupants messing about in the never-ending whiteness.

 _Hell, that’s a lie,_ he corrected himself. It wasn’t white all the time, as their domain was somewhat sentient. A large wooden door would appear whenever an imaginary friend would come calling, needing a new assignment. At that time the room would bend to his and other gods’ wills, but the option of shape-shifting the room, however, could only be done when there was an intent or a purpose.

Meaning, when an imaginary friend wasn’t present, intents and purposes were never available at their whim, except to pull some likely candidate into their realm for training– It was quite possibly a good thing, or Damion would have transformed the room ages ago to some empty plot of land and held a shovel at the ready. (It wasn’t as if someone would miss the five idiots.)

Needless to say, he was incredibly bored with these fools he reigned along with in the Other Otherworld, especially now with the ongoing crisis. There was a growing shortage of imaginary friends available to children, one that didn’t appear to be slowing down any time soon. "Interesting people need to just start dying faster," he quipped.

To his left, Cale scoffed. "Oh listen to you. 'Why can't every crazy person choke on their forks and die, so I can be master overlord supreme and have all the imaginary friends to myself.' It's not feasible, you know. You're an outright bastard wishing that."

Damion glared at him. "I'm sorry, can you stop talking? I'd like to hear myself plot."

Cale rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "Fine, be an evil bastard. See if I care," he muttered, wandering to the corner to fetch his monocle goggles.

Axel shook his head. "Can you believe him? Getting so worked up over something so simple as death! It's scientifically inevitable, so why not hurry it along on the ones we need?"

Enzo cleared his throat. "Uh, because that would be WRONG." He tilted his head and his dangling earrings swung about. Both Damion and Axel stared at him like he was deranged.

"Are those trolls on your ears?" Damion asked, staring at the fluffy green-haired abominations swinging from Enzo's earlobes.

“They're Vyvian and Ricardo. They're my friends and I'd kindly ask that you don't refer to them as trolls. It hurts their feelings."

Damion blinked. “They’re green and hairy. Plus the left eye on each of them is larger than the other. If they’re not trolls, please do enlighten me as to exactly what their species is."

"Well, you see we haven't decided on that yet."

Bastion shook his head. "Bloody hell! Such a loony," he muttered within earshot.

"Am not!" Enzo argued.

"SHUT UP!" Damion spat. "After all these years I swear I'm ready to off the lot of you and go solo!"

A doorbell suddenly rang and the large wooden door appeared off in the distance. All of them immediately tensed.

"Were you expecting guests?" Enzo asked. "Because I haven't properly dressed for that. I told you to give me more notice."

Damion smacked his head. "Shut your face, or I'll use those _trolls_ to stab you in the eyes. No, I haven't invited anyone. Go see who it is."

Favian raised his hand. "I'll do it," he grumbled and marched for the door.

* * *

 

When Fred popped into the Other Otherwold, the hair immediately rose on the back of his neck. The place was unnatural, and whenever someone came to visit the gods, the teleportation area was always within this same dark hallway of solid stone walls lined by bits of moss growing around the edges of the mortar. The occasional scuffing of feet could be heard on the cobblestone floor, but if one turned to look over their shoulder the hallway would be empty, save for the few lights leading to the large wooden door at the hall’s end.

The part Fred disliked the most about this place; however, laid in the opposite direction of that door, where nothing but blackness seemed to thrive. Fred had never ventured that route, as he never had a reason to, plus it just looked entirely too creepy for his tastes.

The slightly less off-putting detail about this realm was that Fred never once saw any of his other friends here. He had always assumed the gods had done this for a reason, though once he’d dwelled on this detail a little too much and asked the gods for an explanation. He was rapped over the head with a shovel instead. Damion always had a thing for shovels.

Shaking his head off the thought of the tall man armed with a garden tool, Fred decided he’d see enough of that in a moment. Right now he couldn’t let himself lose his nerve.

Gathering up all the courage he could muster, he strode toward the door ahead and rapped loudly on the wood. His stomach busily twisted in knots over the whole situation, and for a long moment he thought perhaps he had made a serious mistake in coming here. The last time he had dealt with this lot was after he had managed to get himself locked up in Elizabeth's jack-in-the-box.

_As they love reminding me of that EVERY time I come back for a new assignment._

Fred sighed, certain the crazy men behind the door were going to be surprised at this sudden visit, but he had good reason for leaving the real world behind so he could plead his case properly.

Impatience took more hold on him and he nervously banged on the door again. "Come on, come on... I know you batty bastards are in there."

The door swung open to reveal Favian, who blinked in surprise. "Who're you?" he asked.

Fred narrowed his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Are you the pizza guy?"

"Does it bloody LOOK like I'm holding a pizza?"

"Well, you never know. You could be carrying it someplace else." Favian shrugged.

It was Fred’s turn to blink. "You're right. I have your pizza here in my pocket," he said as he reached in, pretending to dig. When he pulled his hand out, he gave Favian the middle finger. "One Ultimate Fingeroni with extra piss off!"

“Oh shut it. I know who you are, Drop Dead Fred. Why are you here?"

Fred pushed past the god to let himself in. "I have business to discuss, if you don't mind."

"I have no mind to mind," Favian muttered, wandering back to the others. "Hey, OTHERS, Drop Dead Fred's here to do his business."

Axel looked up. "Really?! That's an awfully long way to travel just to go to the bathroom." He frowned at the idea.

Bastion gagged. "Well I don't want to watch or see what comes out of his bottom!"

Fred let out a sigh while dragging his hand exasperatedly across his face. "I'm not here to use your facilities.”

None of them seemed to notice Fred had spoken. _Typical, should've brought a shiny object with me so they’d at least pay attention._

"What's he going to use for toilet paper? Enzo's dress?" Damion laughed, inciting all but Enzo to join in.

"Hey! Leave my skirts out of this. He can use the drapes."

"Oh not the drapes," Cale whined. "I rather like those. Well, whenever some appear." He reached behind himself for the blue ones, stroking the fabric.

"Well, he has to shit somewhere," said Bastion, pointing at Fred. "Unless it's piss. Do you have to piss, Fred?" he asked.

"You're the one taking the piss right now," Fred replied evenly.

Bastion's jaw dropped. "Well, I say! That was uncalled for!"

"You were asking for it," Favian muttered.

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"Oh, shut up! You're wrong! You're always wrong!"

"And that's how you like it." Favian smirked.

Bastion was aghast. "What the devil are you talking about, you rat monkey's ass?"

Fred paled at the sight of the gods fighting in front of him. These bastards were just as insane as the day he'd met them. He idly wondered if there were something in the Other Otherworld water, if they even drank water, that is. Maybe they were all suffering from dehydration... or brain tumors…

Dehydrated brain tumors.

Damion held up his hands. "Shut up, all of you!" For once they silenced in unison. "Drop Dead Fred here has something he'd like to say, I'm sure, and I'd much rather listen to that than you ninnies for another second." He eyed Fred. "But... wait, why are you here?”

“Yeah,” said Bastion. “Aren't you currently with child?"

Axel and Cale snickered as Fred rolled his eyes. _Lizzie will be dead and buried by the time I even to get to tell them why I’m here…_

"Fred's having a baby!" Axel laughed.

"Let's throw him a shower!" Cale chimed in.

"Who's the mother?" asked Enzo.

Fred slapped his forehead. "I should know better to come in here sober before trying to talk to you lot..."

"Oh now that's not good for the baby," Enzo chided, waggling a finger at him of disapproval.

Fred groaned and shot Bastion a glare. "Thanks for the Freudian slip, you bastard."

Enzo gasped. "Bastion's the mother?! Oh, this is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell me?" he asked his friend.

"Right. Can I kill him?" asked Bastion of Damion.

"No because if anyone's killing anyone, I'll be the one doing it. Fred! What is it you wanted?"

Fred gave the group a wary look before saying his next words and took a very deep breath. "Right. I've come to... erm... ask a favor."

"A favor?" Damion's voice hitched. "Are you sure it's not about a toilet?"

"No, it's not about the damned bloody toilet!" Fred huffed. "This is serious. It's a matter of life or death, literally."

All of them finally dropped their smiles and focused fully on Fred.

"Death you say? Go on," said Damion.

Fred stepped toward the group.  "Do you remember my first job? The little girl, Elizabeth?"

Damion's eyebrows rose with interest. "The one that ended you up in a jack-in-the-box?"

Fred lowered his gaze to the floor. "Yes. The first... and only job where I, um... failed."

"Right. I thought you went back and cleaned that all up with as her adult, or am I mistaken?" Damion eyed him quizzically. The others murmured amongst themselves. It had been big news at the time when Fred returned to Elizabeth as an adult. It had never happened before with any other imaginary friend.

"Ahh, well yes, it's been 'cleaned up,' as you say," he said, suddenly finding it hard to find the words he had practiced the entire way over. His well-practiced speech had completely escaped him, probably due to the incessant insanity that occurred upon his arrival. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best. "She's going to die."

"And?” Damion asked, leaning closer, silently urging the orange-haired man to continue. His boredom was now effectively nullified at the sudden interest to learn why this was so dire for Fred.

Fred opened his eyes and his face twisted in pain. "Today. She's going to die today."

"Ah," Damion said, stepping closer to Fred. "Today? How do you know this? Don't you have a new friend now?" He rubbed his chin in an attempt to draw out the conversation.

"I'm friend’s with Elizabeth's... um... Well, he's not quite her boyfriend..." Fred shook his head, trying to clear all the emotions and thoughts that were clouding his brain. He had to be clear and concise with his words or the entire dialogue would be lost and an inevitable barrage of insanity would begin to spew from this group's lips. "I'm friends with the daughter of a man who was a childhood friend of Elizabeth's. There was an accident today. She was hit by an intoxicated man... with a truck."

Damion's eyes narrowed. "This favor, I’m guessing, has something to do with Elizabeth, rather than your new friend.”

"Ah, yes," Fred replied. "I wanted to know if you could possibly... um... save her.” Damion’s incredulous look made Fred’s heart plummet.

"Save her? What do you think we do here? We can't stick a magic band-aid on her if she's dying! Just help your new friend through it. It's difficult, but she'll survive."

The other gods shifted uncomfortably because they were all suspecting something more to this story, but thought better to just stay quiet while Damion worked his interrogation.

"No, I know you can't do that." Fred sighed. He knew this conversation was going to be hard, but he refused to back down until they saw his reasoning. "Her mother is going to terminate her life. There's no stopping it." Fred fought hard to keep his tears from spilling down upon his cheeks as he explained the situation. "The accident has left her in a state; she can't survive without being hooked up to a bunch of machines."

"Then what’re you asking, Fred? Spill it. We may have eternity, but we'd like to not spend it in suspense." Damion growled.

Fred audibly gulped. _No point in backing down now._ "I'm asking you lot to give her a second chance,” he explained. "Like you gave me a second chance all those years ago."

Every one of them shared a look and moments of silence followed. Fred gazed at the group of men in utter shock. _Huh, got all of them to shut up. Probably should have opened with that._

Damion watched Fred carefully. He could see the shine of the tears in his eyes and it told him most of what he wanted to know. "You want us to make her an imaginary friend? As far as I know, this girl's normal, right?"

"Normal? How should I know?"

A pained hiss leaked from Damion as he decided to target his questions more carefully. How was it Drop Dead Fred could be so much more difficult than the rest of his imaginary minions? “Bloody hell! She’s been your charge twice!”

"Well if you put it that way, then you ruddy well know she's not normal!" Fred hollered back. "I had to go back and be her imaginary friend while she was an ADULT. Even though half of that was my fault, how many cases like that have you had?”

"Just yours,” he ground out, “but your initial failure, I’m afraid isn’t enough to give her the ideal criteria to become an imaginary friend. We’ve strict guidelines, you know. Honestly, when I made that deal with you that you’d go back to finish that job, I never actually thought she’d remember you past age ten, let alone look for you again.”

"Guess that makes her ending up with Fred twice somewhat your fault,” Axel said, smirking at his revelation. The searing glare from Damion couldn’t even ruin this moment for him and Fred revealed his own smirk of approval.

"Shut up,” Damion hissed with so little mouth movement he looked like a ventriloquist. “The point I’m trying to make is, that despite Elizabeth’s unusual case, she’s not the right type we’d let in here, and this is the Other Otherworld, not a bloody suggestion box!”

"Uh, we could instate one of those,” said Enzo, lifting a hand.

"If we did you wouldn’t like where my first suggestion was going,” Damion spat back. These interruptions were finally starting to get to him. If he didn’t hurry this up, he was going to start digging six holes... “The rules state that we only take in people with little, or no family, with a colorful state of mind already giving them a familiarity with unnatural sights and sounds.”

"I.E. Fred’s acid days,” mumbled Favian.

Damion sighed with sarcasm. “Thank you, Mr. Laymen,” he said. “Look, you can’t take a normal person, or even close to it, and toss them off into, well _this_. They’d go insane! And while that’s part of the job, the quickness of it would be too much for them to take. They wouldn't adjust. There’s a reason we choose who we do.” Damion stopped to consider his next words. “But you already know all of this, which leaves me with the question of WHAT could’ve possibly stripped you of your already little sense of rationality and have you march all the way here to ask us a favor.” Staring Fred straight in the eye, he asked, "Is it love, Fred?"

Fred's eyes widened in shock at Damion's question. "Love? What does love have to do with this?"

"Oh, I know this song!" said Enzo with a smile. Everyone looked back at him like he were the most insane of all of them. "What? It's a classic… I'm not ashamed."

Damion shook his head. "I've got to stop letting him channel radio stations at night..." he muttered. He looked back at Fred. "I ask because you've just put so much importance on this woman's life when you know she's not like us here in the Other Otherworld. Why else would you be standing before us here, making such a sentimental request?"

Frustration erupted across Fred's face. Why was Damion asking so many damn questions? The idea of love wasn’t alien to him; however, there was something he felt for Lizzie. If he could describe what he currently felt, it was like a warm flutter in the pit of his stomach, and thinking about it scared the hell out of him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore how his body reacted to the 'L' word. "She's done nothing to deserve what's going to happen to her. I'm simply... defending her."

"Hmm." Damion stroked the bottom of his chin once again. "She's human. Bad things happen eventually. What makes her so special to you?" he added, raising an eyebrow.

Fred narrowed his eyes. "She was the first assignment I ever took, and the first assignment I ever failed," he replied. "If anything, I owe her. I know I went back and fixed things, but it wasn’t enough.” Fred dropped his head in defeat. “It will never be enough,” he whispered.

Damion straightened and took a long gaze at Fred. The corner of his mouth twitching as he mulled things over. "Right... Would you excuse us a moment?" He turned his head and shouted at the others, "Mind meeting!"

The rest of the gods jumped and scurried over to Damion, forming a circle. One by one they proceeded to stick their fingers into the ears of those beside them, forming a chain. When complete, their eyes closed and their heads dropped forward. Fred stood there awkwardly after watching the weird ritual play out in front of him.

"Um, I don't really think that's very hygienic,” he offered.

"Says the one who rubs dog poo on the furniture," mumbled Cale.

Fred scowled. _Should’ve known they were still listening._ “Like you wouldn’t have done it,” he countered.

"You don’t want to know what I’ve done.”

Fred wanted to reply, but feared delaying this decision any further. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed in the real world and the last thing he wanted was for that witch of a mother to take away his best friend a second– and more permanent– time.

Several agonizing minutes passed before the gods dislodged their fingers and ended their ear-finger-circle-meeting. They smiled at Fred in a very unsettling manner.

"Well?” he asked, blinking with impatience. “Fingered each others' ear holes enough to finally reach a decision yet?"

Axel smirked suggestively and waved a finger at Fred, bobbing his eyebrows. "Oh, you," he said.

"Come near me with that and you'll spend the next week trying to get your hand out of that tosser's knickers." Fred snorted as he pointed at Enzo.

"I'd rather his finger not come near my knickers! They're clean and I'd like to keep them that way," Enzo cried in defense. "And who knows where that's been!" He flashed a disgusted look at Axel.

"I know where it's been," he replied with another smirk.

Damion rolled his eyes. "Yes, well map that out later. Now where was I?"

Fred sighed. He knew he had plenty of moments where he wasn't lucid, but this group took the diagnosis of attention deficit disorder to whole new heights. "You were about to give me an answer."

Damion glared at him. "Well, aren't you demanding! Alright, here's our answer: We'll meet with her, and if she's interesting enough, you might get your happy reunion." He smiled a bit wickedly at Fred. "How's that?"

Fred stood there, gobsmacked. Surely the decision couldn't be THIS easy. "Alright, what's the catch?"

Damion laughed. "Catch? What makes you think there's a catch?"

Fred scowled as he shook a finger at them. "What makes you think I'm going to trust a group of loons? Velcro Head still isn't right after the balloon animal incident of '83," he said with a shudder. "He can't even look at a balloon without vomiting."

"That was circumstantial," muttered Cale.

Bastion leaned over to him and said, "But it was bloody brilliant!" He glanced at Fred. "And I'm not loony, just the rest of this lot. I've got credentials. I was king once."

Favian scoffed. "Yeah, of the dance."

"Shut up!" Bastion roared.

Cale sighed. "Well I didn't vote for him."

"Oh let's not bring that up again," Damion muttered. He glanced at Fred. "Velcro Head's really still upset over that?"

"Other than the fact that he wets himself every time he has to be with a child going to a birthday party, he's fine," Fred growled back. Generally the chaos was somewhat contained whenever the gods decided to mess with the imaginary friends they lorded over, but he knew deep down there was always some twisted reasoning behind everything they did.

 _Circumstantial my ass_ , he thought.

Damion smirked. "Alright. Let's cut to the chase. If there is a catch, I'm not ready to throw it." His smirk twisted into an innocent expression that practically glowed. "Now, do you want us to meet with your Elizabeth, or not?"

Fred nervously shuffled his feet. "I'll agree to this, so long as you promise not to break her brain in the process."

"Seeing as how she's had everything else broken...”

Fred shot Damion a glare.

"What? Too soon? Oh, fine. Shall we seal the deal then?" he asked, thrusting his right hand at Fred.

"What's the matter? Lose your shovel?" Fred smirked as he took Damion's hand.

"You still upset about that?" he asked, shaking Fred's hand.

"It's just a nasty habit I somehow picked up from you... you know, smacking people on the head with shovels and all."

"Good to see I rubbed off on you and not Enzo."

"Hey!" Enzo shouted. "I heard that!"

"I intended for you to, you half-wit! Now get to work figuring out how long until this girl's unplugged," Damion ordered. He smiled back at Fred. "I love new arrivals. They're always so much fun!"  


* * *

 

 **Authors' Notes : **And now you see where we're going with this.  Next chapter will be up soon. Just needs some finishing touches. Please review and thanks for waiting so patiently!


	4. Chapter 3: Circumstantial Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's life is picking up until an accident changes everything and sends Drop Dead Fred to ask for the biggest favor imaginable in order to save her. Starts with the origin of how Fred became an imaginary friend. FredXLizzie pairing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:  
> Sorry this took so long (I was swallowed by trolls), but thank you for everyone who keeps reading and poking for more. Hope it lives up to expectations and was worth the wait. :D Please review if you're still out there! I’ll try not to be so terrible with the updates from now on.
> 
> Disclaimer: We still don't own Drop Dead Fred, and aren't making a single profit off of this story.

** Chapter Three **

_Circumstantial Blessings_

* * *

 Enzo crept toward Damion in timid fashion. “You’re creating a mess, you know. How could you agree to this disaster?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Entertainment? Boredom? Full moon? It certainly wasn’t for this riveting moment between us.”

“But...” Enzo fidgeted with the jewels bedazzled to his dress, his resolve threatening to betray him. “But she’s not allowed to be an imaginary friend. You know our rules... You made them up.” The cutting stare from Damion was almost palpable.

“And I can bend them whenever I like. Besides, it's not really bending. She’s not gonna last long as an imaginary friend anyway.” The callousness in his tone practically had ice hanging off the words.

“Then why go through with this? Haven’t you thought about what it’s going to do to Fred?” An unsettling feeling gripped Enzo as he watched Damion just shake his head and smile. The simple action confirmed his fears; something awful was underfoot.

“You know, I have and it wouldn’t affect him any more than it would if Elizabeth Cronin popped off for good right now, would it? Least this way he gets to do his job a bit longer before turning into a sad sack of uselessness.”

Enzo flinched at the sting of Damion’s words. “I’m not sure I quite get what you’re saying...”

“I’m saying, I think Fred is hiding something, and I don’t like it, so I’m going to pry it out of his ever-lying mouth even if it kills them both.”

* * *

Fred rematerialized just outside the hospital’s waiting area, never more thankful to be back from the Other Otherworld. Visiting with the masters of his universe always left him on edge, simply because the entire lot of them made him question his already fleeting sanity.

 _Bunch of crazy bastards..._ He often wondered if they were all pledging for an asylum. Fred shook his head, trying to knock some of his sense back into place. At least now he could breathe knowing Lizzie was safe from oblivion. He only hoped she would forgive him for introducing her to the biggest wankers in the universe.

A surprising surge of emotion overtook him at those thoughts, forcing tears from his eyes, and reigniting the earlier fluttering sensation within his stomach. Gasping, Fred propped himself up against the nearest wall as he struggled to get ahold of himself.

What the hell was the matter with him? Crying? No. He refused to do this now. Natalie was counting on him and Lizzie was moments away from needing him more than she ever had in her whole life. He couldn’t just let everything that had been piling up inside him explode at the last minute and further ruin everyone’s lives; he was Drop Dead Fred for fuck’s sake! But look at him! He had obviously been standing too close to Mickey and caught his girly weeping.

Never had a thought been more sobering for Fred in his entire existence.

Pushing himself from the wall, he frantically used his sleeves to wipe away all evidence of his tears and swore to never think of this moment again. Right now he needed to find Natalie and focus on taking care of her.

Rounding the corner into the waiting area, Fred scanned the outer edges of the room for his little blonde-haired charge, especially concentrating on the corners. Natalie always had a thing for corners. The faint hint of purple fabric peeked out from behind a planter along the far wall.

 _Got her_ , he thought, rematerializing behind her and covering her eyes. "Guess who?" he asked against her ear.

His only response was a heavy and unwelcome shrug.

“Nope, I’m sorry that’s not how you play the game,” he said. “Try again.”

“I don’t want to play.” Natalie slumped over with a defeated whine.

“Yes you do!” he shouted, but his friend remained bent on ignoring him. Fred frowned. This behavior reminded him a lot of Lizzie and for a moment he nearly lost himself to another unexpected swell of emotion. Mickey’s face glistening with tears at the other end of the room, however, helped him dial it back.

He’d bedazzle with Enzo before ever acting like Fartpants.

Pausing, Fred suddenly realized the man Mickey now engaged in such an overly emotional discussion with was Lizzie’s father. Time may have dusted gray in his hair and added lines to his face, but Fred could never forget the man who had abandoned his best friend over twenty years ago. It sickened him to see him here now just because it was the end; Lizzie deserved better than this. She deserved hundreds of people fighting for her, not just some Fartpants crying in the hall.

Fred’s eyes narrowed at Mickey and a withering scowl crossed his face. "Oi, what a girl," he muttered, turning back to Natalie, hands still placed over her eyes. “Hey, I bet I know what’ll make you want to play!” he said. Fred tightened his grasp and gave her head such a rough shake that it jostled her tiny body like a helpless ragdoll.

“No! I said I don’t wanna!” Natalie kicked and writhed, fighting to pry his hands from her face. “Let me go!”

Fred snorted. “Not until I see if this works.” He shook her faster, smirking at the way Natalie’s hair now stuck up at all ends.

“Nooooo!”

“Yessssss! I’m shaking you up like a Magic Eight Ball until you change your answer!” Fred caught the emergence of a smile on Natalie’s face. ‘ _Bout bloody time_ , he thought, relenting in his assault and leaning close to her ear. “Now let’s see if it worked… Guess who?”

“You’re so annoying,” she mumbled.

“Least I’m not boring like you! You’re the dullest friend I’ve ever had and if you don’t answer me right now I’ll slip into a coma and DIE, and I’ll tell everyone your real name is Natalie Narcolepsy because you put me to sleep!”

“If you’re asleep how will you tell them?” she whispered and grinned.

“I- Oi! That’s enough outta you!” Fred roughhoused her again, laughter practically spilling from his smart-mouthed charge. _Too smart for her own good_.

“Okay, okay!” she cried.

Fred tickled her a bit more for good measure and finally stopped to fold his arms. “Alright then. I’m waiting...”

“Are you one of Santa’s elves?”

Fred snorted. "An elf? Pfft! Please! You wouldn't catch me dead in one of those horrible pairs of tights and weird shoes that curl at the tips. Try again!" An elf! That was just insulting. Still, Fred glanced down at his clothes. Did he really look like an elf?

Natalie giggled. "Are you sure? Maybe you just don’t remember. I bet your real name is Fritz, or Twinkle Toes."

Fred's face twisted up in disgust. "EWWWW! Twinkle Toes?! Have you gone mad? My elf name would never be so girly! I'd have a proper man's name like... Knob Rocket, or something."

"That’s not an elf’s name!"

"Better than Fritz!" he harrumphed, climbing over the row of chairs and plopping into a seat. The clock on the wall across from him revealed that over an hour had passed since his visit to the Other Otherworld, redirecting his thoughts back to Lizzie. He wondered how much time remained before Polly the Plug Reaper struck. He had to get back into that room…

"So... uh, has the witch sucked out your dad's soul yet?”

"I don't think so...” Natalie crawled out from her hiding place to sit beside him. “But I stopped watching a while ago." Her anxious demeanor returned. "I didn't like all the yelling, so I hid... Fred? Is... Is Lizzie gonna be okay? Did you save her?"

“I...” Fred choked. “Hasn’t your dad told you anything?”

Natalie shook her head. “I heard people saying she’s not waking up.”

“Well, that’s true—“

“So what happened?”

Fred squirmed, fighting the urge to blindfold Natalie’s huge, hope-filled eyes which were locked on him like torpedoes. “It’s… Well, don’t you wanna wait for your dad? I’m sure he can explain it better than I can.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Fred felt his emotions pulled in so many directions he swore he were being drawn and quartered.

“Please?” Her voice trembled.

“Natalie, it’s... difficult,” he said, clearing his throat, and tearing his gaze away before he broke. How the hell was he to explain any of this to her? What the hell had Fartpants been doing this whole time? Defeated, Fred ran his hand over his face and sighed.

“Come here,” he whispered, holding out his arms. Natalie scooted closer and he wrapped her into a tight embrace, briefly wondering how many more times his bloody heart would break in one afternoon.

"I, um, don't think Lizzie's gonna be okay, Fishface. You know she was hurt very badly."

"What do you mean? Isn’t she gonna get any better?"

Through his connection to her, Fred felt the sickening fear that twisted around inside her, making him wish he could do something, anything to spare her the coming pain. "No,” he said, his answer a strained whisper. “I… I’m afraid not.” For a moment Natalie stopped breathing in his arms, and the wave of grief nearly drowned his words. “She’s, she’s got to rest… for a very long time…”

“W-what do you mean? Why?” Natalie started to shake, and Fred tried to quell her by stroking her hair.

“She’s really hurt- It’s why everyone’s so upset. She… has to go someplace else.” Fred found his words failing him and his grief surmounting under the pressure. His connection to everything Natalie was experiencing, coupled with his own emotions consumed him. The lump in Natalie’s throat felt like a noose around his neck, and her rampant feelings hardly differed from his own, sending him reeling under the mixture. The warm feel of tears soaking through his shirt; however, brought him back to the present as he remembered how much more she needed him right now.

Rocking her in his arms, and hearing her sobs, a detail struck Fred, recalled from the first day he had met Natalie:

Crying made her angry because it reminded her of the night her mom left…

“You lied to me!” Natalie choked. "You said you were gonna protect her!” Twisting, she tried to shove herself away from Fred, but he fought to keep her still.

“But I did!”

“Then why’s she going away?” Natalie screamed.

Fred broke at those words, stunned by the piercing glare given to him and the guilt of not being there to protect Lizzie in the first place from that bloody truck. He relinquished his hold, and Natalie tumbled to the ground on the verge of hyperventilation. She gasped and choked between sobs, curling into a ball as she screamed for her father over Fred.

“But there wasn’t anything I could do!” he shouted, leaping from his seat.

“Liar!”

Cringing, Fred stumbled back in shock as Mickey swooped in to replace him, picking Natalie up in his arms and rocking her like he were suddenly some kind of hero. Even Polly, Nigel, and some of the hospital staff gathered round, which suddenly gave Fred a whole new set of anxieties.

If Natalie said anything about him around the Megabitch or those nurses…

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Mickey asked.

“L-Lizzie- Lizzie’s not- not coming back!” she choked out.

Mickey paled. “Where did you hear that?”

Fred held his stomach as he remembered the green pills with Lizzie. _No, no, no. Don’t say my name. Please not right now!_

“Maybe it’s time you took your daughter home,” said Polly, hovering over Mickey. The two exchanged a brief, but heated stare.

“Yeah… Maybe you’re right,” he answered, standing up with Natalie still in his arms. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. I wish things could’ve been different… for all of us.” Mickey nodded to Polly and Nigel, and left defeated for the elevators.

Closing his eyes, Fred gave a loud sigh of relief. “THANK YOU!” he cried to whatever force had decided to spare him at least one disaster this day. He only wished things had gone different with Natalie, and guilt flooded him. Fred hated himself for having to lie to her, but fear of the gods rescinding their offer kept him from breathing a word about Lizzie to anybody- even other imaginary friends.

“Sorry, Fishface,” he whispered toward the elevators. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

In a spark of green, Fred disappeared for Lizzie’s room and crept toward the still figure tucked beneath the sheets. As far as he could tell, there had been no change in Lizzie’s health, and the annoying beeps and buzzes still signaled her life was only being prolonged. Very soon she would be dead to everyone, except him and the ridiculous gods toying with her afterlife. Fred knew it was coming, but putting his mind in the right place proved harder than he originally thought.

Eyes burning with the threat of tears, he slumped into a nearby chair and waited for the inevitable.

* * *

Back in the Other Otherworld, the gods had gathered into a circle to discuss the final details of Lizzie’s death. Peering into the human world through their magic monocle goggles, they tried to understand what they were doing because the complexity of this case had most of them (especially Enzo) confused.

“So where do we start with this one?” he asked, scratching his head. “I mean, she’s got so many connections, it’d be a bother to erase all of their memories.” In fact, his head spun from all the counting.

“We’re not touching any of them,” said Damion, as he kept a watchful eye on Fred through his monocle goggles. His suspicions were spiking even worse than before; it was giving him indigestion.

“What? But then how? How’re we going to cover up the missing body once we bring her over? There are rules we—”

“Do I have to explain everything?”

“Well, I’d rather you did,” Cale grumbled, flicking a piece of lint from his sleeve. “I hate sticking my fingers in everyone’s ears.”

“If it’s any consolation, I hate sticking mine in yours most of all,” said Axel.

Bastion snickered. “Oh yes, Cale’s are the worst! So sticky and, oh who knows what’s causing that after smell. I wash for weeks and it never goes away.”

“Could we please stop talking about my ears? I do clean them, you know... once in a while.” Turning from the group, Cale slouched into a sulk. “Inconsiderate pricks…”

“So, uh, Damion,” Enzo began, too worried about the present situation to become distracted by ear talk, “what exactly _are_ we doing?”

“It’s simple, really,” he said, finally lowering his own monocle goggles. “Though maybe not for you... We’re creating an illusion. A decoy body that will keep those mortals believing everything’s normal, while the real Elizabeth’s here with us.”

Axel visibly flinched, finally starting to see why Enzo was asking so many questions. “But Fred’s friends with a child who knows her. That can cause all kinds of chaos. If we don’t cover this up—”

“Look!” Damion growled. “There’s no point going through all the trouble of erasing this woman’s whole life when she’s not fit for the job anyway, is there? The decoy’s only a temporary stand-in ‘til the time comes for the real Elizabeth to get sent off to start pushing up the daisies.”

Lifting his monocle goggles, Damion gazed back into the mortal realm, unaware of the anxious glances taking place amongst his colleagues. "It appears we have about nine minutes their time,” he said. “All of you better get ready for the snatch."

* * *

Fred anxiously paced the room. Moving seemed to be the only thing distracting enough to keep him from falling apart as he waited for the Megabitch to come pull the plug. He didn’t care how long it took, he would not leave this room again without his friend… He owed her that.

“You know, none of this would be happening if you’d only wake up,” he said, stopping at Lizzie’s bedside, and searching one last time for any signs of life. Her stillness compelled him to touch her hand, his thumb gently caressing over the top.

“Well, you always promised we’d run away together… Guess you’re finally following through.” Fred’s mouth twitched with the hint of a broken smile as reality caught up with him. “It’s Fred by the way.” His breath shook as he wondered if Lizzie could even hear him; he hoped she did.

“I can’t believe you’re going to end it like this,” he whispered, hating all the tubes and machines; hating how cold her hand now felt in his. “But at least you’ll give the Megabitch one last good show, huh?” He shrugged up his arm to wipe a sniffle away from his nose, but another glance at Lizzie shattered him.

“It’s really not fair.” Fred choked. “I could’ve saved you! If I’d stayed just a bit longer, I could’ve chased you down and bashed you on the head before you even made it out that stupid door, and- You...You wouldn’t have-” His voice hitched and tears fell from his eyes. “You’re my friend, Snotface; the first _real_ one I ever had, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t, that I couldn’t save you.”

Dropping to his knees, he gripped Lizzie’s hand, praying the deal he’d made with Damion was the right thing to do. Whatever the catch was, let it be on him and not her... “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, just as Polly, Nigel, and Charles entered the room, swarmed by doctors and nurses. Anger overtook him at the sight.

After all his time of trying to protect Lizzie from her awful mother and her rotten husband, in the end he was powerless to step up when it really counted. He wondered if somewhere, anywhere within either of them they had even a grain of remorse over what they planned to do.

Stumbling back, Fred moved out of Polly’s way, choosing to linger in the corner. His fists clenched as he watched them all, finalizing forms and recording final vitals, but when he saw the tears on Polly’s face, solace entered him. For a long moment all he could do was stare at her, actually feeling sorry for her.

“I’m ready,” she said, clearing her throat as she watched her daughter’s near-lifeless form with a haunting sadness that filled the room. Fred felt his lungs deflate.

It was time.

* * *

"Remember, we do this ON three, not after. Not on five, but ON three. Do I make myself clear this time?" Damion spat. He was quite tired of his cohorts’ endless inability to remember when to pull someone through to the Other Otherworld. They had lost several prime candidates that way.

“Not really. I can still see you quite solidly,” said Cale.

Damion gaped in amazement, blinking several times before he could even draw breath. “Honestly, do you sit there thinking of ways to piss me off?”

Cale shrugged. “When it’s a slow day.”

“Bloody hell. I’ve got nothing left to say to you.”

“Well, I’ve won then…” Cale whispered, receiving a nod of approval from Axel.

Damion cringed. That indigestion was becoming an ulcer. “Back to work…” he snarled.

The gods all dropped their monocle goggles over their eyes. Positioning their fingertips against their temples as they concentrated on Elizabeth.

“It’s time! It’s time!” rang Enzo.

“I see that,” Bastion said. “I can read, you know.”

“You don’t read time,” corrected Axel.

“Oh, shut it! You know what I meant.” Bastion glared.

“Yes, and we all wish we didn’t,” said Cale.

“Oh sod off!”

“No, Bastion. You sod off!” Cale shouted.

“You-” Bastion was so upset he couldn’t get the words out. “You’re insufferable!” He ran his hands through his hair. “You always have to have the last word, and it’s not even original! You’re just repeating me. Like a parrot. A bloody parrot.”

“I was only helping you. No need to get nasty.” Cale sniveled.

“ONE!” Damion shouted over the lot of them. Everyone silenced and went back to concentrating, readying themselves for the big moment. “Two…” Damion glanced around with unease as all of them continued to behave- It was bloody eerie. “Three!”

Remarkably, and for perhaps the first time in their history, all the gods went on three to pull Elizabeth Cronin into the Other Otherworld.

* * *

From within Lizzie’s room, Fred felt the scene play out in front of him as if it were in slow motion. As soon as the machines stopped beeping, an eerie group of hands appeared from the walls. Fred tensed as they grabbed hold of Lizzie, pulling some sort of silvery essence from her limp body before disappearing back into thin air. In their wake, a strange glow fell over the corpse remaining in the bed, which unknown to Fred was merely the decoy for Damion’s plan.

Slowly, Fred moved to the side of the bed to pay his final respects. He leaned forward, trembling as he kissed her forehead with such a reverent tenderness it almost shocked him.

"See you soon," he whispered and dematerialized from the room.


	5. Chapter 4: Testing 1, 3, 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie wakes up in the Other Otherworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:
> 
> zombierose3: This was actually a WAY longer chapter, but I've kept you wonderful readers waiting so long that I cut Chapter 4 into two so you could get something faster. (It was over twenty pages, too) Thank you for reading and all the reviews. It means so much! And the next chapter is almost ready too, just a couple paragraphs left to edit.
> 
> **Thank you, Nicole, my bestest friend and beta reader. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: We still don't own Drop Dead Fred, and aren't making a single profit off of this story.

**Chapter Four**

_Testing 1, 3, 4_

 

Lizzie jolted, eyes opening as she broke from her nightmares under a grip of intense pain. Unable to breathe or move, the room around her blurred. A lead-like weight crushed her chest, sending her heart into a furious panic. She tried to scream, but only a strangled hiss escaped.

_No! Oh, God please! I don't want to die_ , she begged, tears falling from her eyes. She fought for breath, her vision blackening, until the weight suddenly lifted from her chest and the pains vanished.

Lizzie gasped. Bolting upright, she panted hard, savoring every breath as her pulse settled and the room fell into focus. However, that was when she discovered she was not alone.

Four men in white coats stared at her, stethoscopes around their necks, and medical equipment surrounding them. She was in a hospital, lying in a bed, and wearing a patient's gown.

"Oh my God…" she whispered, unable to remember the last thing that had happened to her.

"Trouble sleeping?" asked the tallest man in the group, his smile as white as the walls of the room. Lizzie had to force herself to stop staring at how unnatural it looked.

"Nice of you to wake up," said the lighter-haired doctor beside him, brandishing a clipboard.

"What… What happened?" she asked, touching her head and trying to examine herself for injuries. Not a bruise or scratch. She felt absolutely fine now.

"Uh, I just greeted you. Rude." He rolled his eyes indignantly, clearing his throat. "I'm Doctor Bastion. This is Doctor Damion," he added, pointing to the taller man. "And the rest of this lot are my nursemaids."

"Nurses!" corrected the one with 'Axel' etched on his name tag.

"Some of us are doctors," muttered a darker-haired man.

"Not you," said Bastion. "Go sit in the corner, _Orderly_ Cale."

"But I'm a nurse!" he argued, his lip protruding in a pout.

"Oh please," said Damion, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't trust you with a corpse."

"Uh…" Lizzie's gaze darted between them like she were watching a train wreck hit a circus act, and she roughly cleared her throat to get their attention. "Excuse me," she said, "Hi. Could one of you _please_ tell me what I'm doing in a hospital?" Her tone hitched with need and panic.

"Hell if I know," said Bastion, shrugging at Lizzie. "Are you sick?"

Lizzie's eyes widened. "You're a doctor. It's your job to tell me."

"Well I guess if you want me to. Mind you, the last time I played doctor I got into a bit of a legal entanglement, but if you insist—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Lizzie shoved her arms out protectively. "What kind of hospital is this?"

"He's kidding, and poorly I might add. I'm actually your doctor. They call me Doctor Axel." He smiled.

"Doctor? He just said you were a nursemaid— er, sorry." Lizzie pinched the bridge of her nose a moment to regroup. These guys had her starting to get a bit mixed up. "Nurse."

"Oh, I was, but I've just graduated."

"You have?" asked Cale. "When was this? And why didn't you invite me?"

"Because it happened just now and you were over there mouth breathing instead of partaking. Now shove off and let me do my job!" Axel snatched the clipboard from Bastion.

"Up-stager!" Bastion scoffed, plopping himself into a nearby chair and checking his watch like he were already bored.

"Now then, Miss…" Axel squinted and looked up from the chart. "It is Miss, right?" He smiled widely.

Lizzie tensed, fearing he were about to ask her for a date. _Wonderful_. She briefly regretted removing her wedding ring so soon. "Yeah…"

"Oh, female, eh? Check!" Axel ticked off something on the chart. "It's good that you knew that or I'd have had to check." Mumbling unintelligibly, he made another note. "Got it! 'Right then. I'm going to let my steamed colleague take over."

"Don't you mean, 'esteemed?'" Lizzie asked.

"No, he's pretty steamed," said Axel, glancing at Damion.

Lizzie suddenly regretted waking up. Maybe they had injected her with some sort of pain medication? That had to be it… or maybe she had a head injury. If only it were a head injury…

"Doctor Damion here's gonna ask you a few questions," explained Axel.

"Oh, I can hardly wait," said Lizzie.

"Do try to keep focused through your excitement. I know I can be riveting," said Damion, taking the clipboard and seating himself in the chair by Lizzie's bedside. "Now then, first question. If I were to ask you where you'd most likely sit in a room containing a sofa, a recliner, a floor, a ceiling fan, a table, a dog, and a beanbag chair, which would you say is the proper choice?"

Lizzie snorted. "A floor? Do they actually make rooms without them?"

Damion did not look amused. "You know you almost remind me of someone."

"I do?"

"It's not flattering," he said, referring to his numerous encounters with Drop Dead Fred. "Answer the question." Damion eyed her with annoyance, tapping the clipboard with a pen Lizzie swore he had just gotten out of thin air.

"I… I guess I'd say the sofa."

"Oh you do? Interesting." Damion penned the answer in the chart, then turned his gaze back on her. "Ehh!" he exclaimed like a game show buzzer. "Wrong!"

"What! How could that be wrong?"

He uncapped his pen and began to make more notes "Patient possibly suffering from dystopia," he muttered just loud enough for Lizzie to hear. "Unfortunately, that's not the right answer. Wrong is wrong. Are you going to argue with me on that because I'd love to share exactly how wrong you are." He sat back and crossed his legs in sudden eagerness, awaiting her response.

"It was a question about sitting. You _sit_ on a sofa!" Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, but that was the predictable answer, wasn't it? You can't get any points for that one. Honestly you've dulled me practically into a coma. I might need that bed now."

"Did I have some sort of head trauma?" Lizzie asked, feeling the stirs of an oncoming headache.

Damion smirked. "Not today, but I think I may have one from your terrible answer."

Lizzie clenched the bed sheets in her growing frustration. "Well, if you don't like my answer then what would have been correct?"

Damion smiled ever-so-politely. "We would've accepted sitting or standing on your head, doing a handstand beside someone who is sitting, sitting on the nearest person's lap, hanging from the ceiling, riding the dog, making the chairs sit on you, or simply refusing to sit at all."

"Alright. Now I have a question for you."

"Oh, this ought to be good." Damion lowered the clipboard onto his lap.

Leaning forward, Lizzie looked him straight in the eyes and asked, "Are you a complete quack?"

"No." Damion lifted his pen and scribbled in the chart. "Patient also showing signs of aggression. May need restraints."

"I think I'd like to leave." Her every limb tingled with adrenaline.

"Not until we're done."

"I don't care. I need to leave _now_." Lizzie looked around for a call button, finding one that said "security" and pressing it hard. Whatever was going on, she was in danger with these men and she kept her eyes locked on their every move.

The door to her room burst open, two men in security uniforms running inside.

"Something troubling you? Is the Jell-O eating people again?" asked the curly-haired one. He laughed until catching Lizzie's horrified stare. "Sorry, it's just a bad joke." His expression fell.

"My name's Favian," said his companion, "and that's Enzo. I don't see anything going on in here so what do you want? I was finishing a fine sandwich."

Lizzie squinted at her 'help.' Who did the hiring in this place? "Uh… These doctors are making me very uncomfortable and I'd like to leave."

"So?" asked Favian.

"And they weren't going to let me." Her words failed her under the weight of her confusion.

"Well then you should take your doctor's advice," said Enzo.

"But I don't want this man to be my doctor. My rights—"

"You are being held until further evaluations are complete. You're not going anywhere," said Damion.

Lizzie pulled her legs to her chest, gulping. What had happened to her? Was she sick? Kidnapped? Crazy?

"Thanks for nothin'!" Favian grumbled. He and Enzo marched out the door.

"Now… question three," said Damion.

"Three? But I think you just skipped two."

"No, I know how to count. We're on three. There is no question two. Why do we even need to acknowledge the number two's existence?"

"Um, because of math."

"Well, it's not a number I use anymore. That poppycock bastard..." Damion sneered.

"But you're a _doctor_. You have to use it." What was wrong with these men? So far she had no answers and a growing headache. She wondered if there was any sort of chance she could run out the door without them stopping her.

Damion shook his head. "No. That's not going to happen. Two is dead."

"But—"

"Does it bother you?" he pressed.

"Of course, but it's more of a concern."

"Hmmm, interesting, but too bad."

Lizzie openly gaped at Damion's response. "You know, you remind me of someone, too, and it's also not flattering." Flashbacks of arguments with Drop Dead Fred ran rampant through her mind.

Damion pretended to ignore her and went back to writing on the clipboard. "Orofacial myological disorder is present—"

"What the hell? Do you even HAVE a medical degree?"

"Possible Tourette's," Damion continued to write before looking up and smirking at Lizzie. "Question three… Do you find this weird?"

A violent flinch overtook Lizzie. "Are you kidding? Of course I do! If I didn't I could blame it on the morphine."

"Ohh! So close on that one, but wrong as usual." Damion ticked off another mark on his clipboard.

"But you asked me an opinion, not a fact! Right and wrong don't apply!" She was almost ready to pop this guy.

"Yes, but you see if you find this weird, then that makes you normal. If you were weird this wouldn't be weird. Weird would be normal and normal would be weird. So you just called us weird and that's WRONG; not to mention offensive."

"Someone's not getting their Jell-O come lunch," muttered Cale.

Lizzie eyed every one of them, but saved her best glare for her 'doctor.' "Look, I want some answers and I demand to see my chart and what you're writing in it."

"This chart?" Damion asked, raising the clipboard.

"Yessss." She hissed.

"The one you see right here in my hand?"

"That would be it."

"Then you've gotten your request to see it, then. Good for you. Moving on—"

"But—"

"Uh, uh, uh! We haven't finished with our diagnosis. Now you wouldn't want us to make the wrong conclusion, would you?" His eyes slanted to an expression of warning.

"Fine. I don't know what your game is, but I'll play along, so long as it gets me out of here and to some answers." _And an Aspirin._

"Question four… If a child is asked to go to bed at a certain hour, yet they aren't tired and would rather have candy, what should you do for them?"

Lizzie released her hold on the bed sheets and was again thrown. Was this some sort of strange parenting course? For a brief moment she started to calculate how long it had been since the last time she'd had sex, until she realized that was an absolutely ridiculous notion since that had been several months ago. This doctor was really screwing with her mind. She had to focus.

"Umm… I guess I'd tell them they could have a small piece and if they're good maybe they'd find a surprise under their pillow when they wake up." She held her breath as she waited to see how that answer would go over.

Damion hummed in thought. "Sweet, really, but WRONG. However, I will give you half credit because that wasn't terrible." He appeared almost dejected about having to finally give her a score.

"Question five… How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

Alright. Maybe she had gone too long without oxygen earlier? A medical doctor didn't ask people about woodchucks! "Oh, piss off…" she muttered. "Five?"

"Nope! Good job returning to that streak of yours!"

Lizzie groaned and already had a pain behind her eyes before asking her question. "And how was _that_ wrong?"

"It's a number. There's no fun in numbers. You could've said anything else, but no. Plus, he wouldn't be a very efficient woodchuck if he only chucked five wood. Come on! Be reasonable, Elizabeth." Damion rolled his eyes and looked at her with contempt. A small bit of joy arose inside him at her swell of agony.

"Look, have I been committed or something? Is my mother outside, or is there anyone else I can speak to?"

"Do you speak to other people often? Any special… _friends_?"

"What?" Lizzie tensed.

Damion lifted his pen and started writing again. "Hard of hearing..." he said. "You do have a visitor coming, but there's one last question."

Hope sprung inside Lizzie at the mention of a visitor. Right now she didn't care at all if it were her mother, Charles, or someone off the street. As long as it was someone SANE. "Fine! Just get it over with."

"What is your favorite color?"

Lizzie's hands dropped from her head as she took in the question. This had to be a trick like all the others. She'd state her favorite color and it would somehow be wrong. Anxiety welled in her and she just wanted this to end. "Umm. My favorite color? Uh…"

"We're waiting… or shall I add stutter to your chart?"

Her gaze darted around as she struggled to think. "Um… I guess…"

"Ticktock!" Damion rapidly tapped his pen, rattling Lizzie even further, until she shouted the first word that popped in her head.

"Squirrels?"

The three men besides Damion gasped, whispering and nodding amongst each other before breaking out into a round of applause. Lizzie could not help, but smirk at Damion's less than pleased expression at her accidental success.

"Desperate, but… correct. Pass," he said, ticking the chart again and standing up. "Would you like some Valium to relax?"

All of Lizzie's thoughts felt as though they were tripping over one another, making her apprehensive about answering his question. Was this another test? "I guess so."

Damion smacked the clipboard against his hand. "So would I. I hear it's very good," he said, walking off toward the sink, leaving Lizzie stunned as ever.

"Never mind. Who... You said I had a visitor?"

"Did you?"

Lizzie blinked. "What?"

"Oh! You mean to say you have a visitor coming, not that you've _had_ a visitor. I thought for a second you'd resolved to cannibalism and I must say that would've changed things with your score immeasurably under the circumstances."

Anger flit like a current inside Lizzie. "Look, I don't know who you and your friends are, but if you don't get out of here right now, and send in whoever my visitor is I'm going to put you in this hospital with me!"

"Fine," said Damion. "Send in Fred."

Lizzie's heart leapt. "What did you just say?"


	6. Chapter 5: Whosoever Wields this Shovel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred and Lizzie are finally reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Dedicated to Halo4anoose who wrote this chapter with me a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away and my beta reader Nicole. Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter, too. It keeps me going and I hope you love this new chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: We still don't own Drop Dead Fred, and aren't making a single profit off of this story.

* * *

 

** Chapter Five **

_Whosoever Wields this Shovel_

 

Fred paced outside the doorway to the Other Otherworld, hating every second he remained barred from Lizzie. He assumed no more than half an hour had passed since her death, and while time was altogether meaningless to an imaginary friend, his impatience with it rekindled with every step. He had to get in there to see her alive and unscathed; to see his friend and not the memory of her broken body.

“How long does it bloody take?” he cried, spinning about and kicking the door. Those crazy bastards could be doing anything to her in there. “If they break her brain I swear I’ll shove their empty heads up their narrow asses.” He growled, pacing again, but thoughts of the first time he had met the gods stopped him dead.

“Oh, this is gonna be worse than sinking her friend’s pirate ship…” Fred’s mouth went dry, Damion’s warning nagging him about normal people not surviving in their world. What if Lizzie really couldn’t belong? What if Damion was right and he lost her forever?

With a click the wooden door behind him unlocked, making him jump.

_Get it together. You’re not falling apart now_.

The door opened and Fred cautiously stuck his head inside the doorway, whispering "Elizabeth?"

For a moment Lizzie just stared, half believing this to be a dream, or hallucination. He was gone- he was suppose to be anyway. Hadn’t he said something about not being able to come back? But here he was, his big, blue eyes looking right at her. “Drop Dead Fred?” she croaked.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You made it.”

Lizzie glanced at her doctors, who all seemed preoccupied with medical charts. How could they have known her ex-imaginary friend was coming for a visit, or that he even existed? And how in the hell could she even see Fred again? She had so many questions, but after her examination her mind practically seized up over his return and all she could ask was, "How? H-how are you... here? Are you really here?”

Smiling, Fred stepped into the room, the door shutting behind him. "I was worried they wouldn't pull you through in time." His gaze quickly traversed the planes of her body beneath the hospital gown. "All your bits are where they should be?"

Lizzie choked, staring at him incredulously. Her doubts as to whether she were really seeing Fred again had definitely been answered, but her confusion wasn't any less. "Uh… Hello to you too."

Fred gave her a small smile before shooting the other men in the room a pointed look. "Did they explain where you are yet?"

Lizzie let out a defeated laugh. "No. The only thing they've done is give me a headache and the weirdest… I don't know _what_ it was, but I have serious doubts about them being doctors."

"Doctors?!" Fred snorted. "THAT'S what they told you they were?" He turned, glaring at Damion. "What the bloody hell are you playing at? What’ve you been doing all this time? You'd better not have given her a FULL physical!"

It took all Damion's strength not to crack a smile at Fred's reaction. He pretended to busy himself with a magazine article, whilst his cohorts scribbled in false medical charts.

"No, nothing like that, thankfully.” Lizzie straightened, reaching for Fred's arm. The feel further reminded her he was really back. “They just asked me some really odd questions.”

Fred flicked the V’s at Damion, topping it off with a farting noise made with his mouth.

“I don't think they can see you," she whispered.

"Of course they can see me. Those fools brought me here as well," Fred answered, rolling his eyes. He sat himself down at the end of the bed, giving them one last sneer before turning his attentions back to Lizzie. "Well, if they haven't told you, you're not dead."

Lizzie smirked. “Thanks. That already puts you ahead of their assessments. Maybe I should make you my doctor.” She shook her head, but was thankful for Fred’s sense of humor right now.

“We don’t really have time for that,” he commented, “but trust me, you don’t need a doctor.”

“I don’t?” Anxiety welled inside her once more. If she didn’t need a physician then what was she doing in a hospital? “Wait... Fred, didn’t you say _they_ brought you here?” She pointed at the doctors.

“Did I?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh.” He laughed nervously. “Well, I’d rather not get into all that right this minute. I’m here for you, not me. So what do you know so far, other than not being dead?”

“Okay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but you’re making even less sense than usual.” She held her head. “Did they give me something? Anything? Maybe I’m hallucinating this entire day.” Hope sparked inside her that everything might finally make sense. Drugs would also explain how Damion knew Fred was coming. She’d probably been talking in her sleep.

“Pfft! Of course you’re not hallucinating. This is all perfectly normal.” Fred rolled his eyes, but the look of distraught confusion on Lizzie’s face instantly filled him with guilt. He tried to recant his words. “Well okay, it’s not _normal_ , but then again, I think we both know you were always unique… in your own little Snotface way, of course.”

_Good, drag up old memories. That’ll make her relax_ , he thought.

“I have no idea what’s going on, but… thank you.” Lizzie half smiled at him, but it quickly vanished when she looked back at the doctors of questionable origin.

Trembling hands reached out for his and squeezed. Fred welcomed the warmth they now held, no longer cold and lifeless like in the hospital. A pang of guilt struck him at the memory, one which Lizzie caught a glimpse of on his face.

"Fred, what's going on? What’re you trying to tell me?”

"This place, it's called the Other Otherworld," Fred explained, leaning forward to push a strand of hair out of her face. "You're in my world now."

"Your world?” Lizzie looked around. “Fred, this is a hospital. Isn’t it?” She glanced with uncertainty around the room, her gaze lasting the longest on her creepy doctors. “Unless you’re trying to tell me you’re from some sort of institution.” A nervous smile tried to push back her anxieties, but it faded when Fred didn’t return it. Was he serious?

“But this doesn’t look anything like the place you took me to the night you left.” Their eyes met and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

“This place is different,” said Fred. “I can’t quite explain how the magic works here because, well, quite frankly it’s something you’ve got to experience for yourself.” He nervously ran his free hand through his hair, knowing his explanation wasn’t very comforting. “Listen, don’t worry about the how, just please trust me when I say you’re safe and that everything’s gonna to be alright now.”

_Now_? Her eyes widened at that word.

“Fred, I’ve sat here all morning without any idea about what’s going on. No one will tell me anything. ‘Please trust me’ isn’t gonna cut it this time. Tell me.” Her eyes pleaded with him, needing him to prove everything was as he promised.

Fred let out a defeated sigh. “This isn’t the same place I took you before. That place was… special.” His gaze darted to where Bastion sat as he was nearest the two of them, and he desperately hoped he wasn’t paying attention. Not seeing any discernible signs, Fred turned back to Lizzie.

“This is where it all starts for imaginary friends. Those guys over there’re in charge, and for the record it’s a different environment in here for every person they bring over. In your case, it’s a hospital.” Fred watched her very carefully now, afraid of how she would take this news.

Lizzie blinked away a tear and it rolled down her cheek. “I… I don’t understand. I’m not an imaginary friend. Fred, why did they bring me here?"

Fred squeezed her hand, his heart breaking over what he didn’t want to say aloud. "Do you, do you remember anything?" he asked.

Lizzie shook her head. "I remember… sitting with Mickey in his kitchen, sharing a photo with him… then waking up here. That _doctor_ over there,” she said, pointing at Damion, “he wouldn't tell me anything. Just insisted I be diagnosed first, but all he did was ask a series of… of…” Lizzie’s mind coiled up in a metaphorical knot just thinking about what had happened and her free hand waved around as though it could physically catch the words she was looking for. “Ugh! He just asked a bunch of questions about favorite colors, and argued with me about how he doesn't believe in the number two. Oh, and apparently I don’t sit properly. I’m suppose to let furniture sit on me and—”

She dropped her head against Fred’s shoulder and whispered so the doctors wouldn’t hear, “I think these men are completely insane, and…” Lizzie choked as tears filled her eyes and suddenly all she could do was wrap her arms around Fred. "I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s going on, but I'm so glad you're here," she confessed. "I didn’t think I’d ever see you again." Her voice trembled with emotion. It was like her best friend was back from the dead just for her.

Lost, Fred just held her back, letting her cry against him. He felt terrible, and obviously the gods had told her nothing. Oh, he hated them for this and caught sight of Damion arching an eyebrow at their embrace as he flipped the page of his magazine.

“I did tell her she was hard of hearing, not blind,” the god quipped, “so I don’t know why she’s so surprised about what’s right in front of her face."

Fred shot Damion a scowl, but he returned Lizzie's hug with a look of worry in his eyes. It was apparent the gods were going to make him relive the entire accident over again. He should have expected this… Perhaps the short version would work for now, the details could come later. "Snotface… there was an accident. You were hit by a truck." He felt her tense in his arms, fingernails digging against his back.

“Please tell me you’re joking…” Lizzie pulled back enough to look at Fred’s face. She had to see the truth in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Even I’m not that twisted to put together something this elaborate for a joke. I leave that amount of ridiculousness to those loons over there,” he replied, nodding his head in the direction of said loons.

“So then… I’m dead?”

“No, remember I told you, you weren’t.”

“But…”

"Not in a coma either." Fred sighed, knowing he had to just get this over with and tell her.

_This is going to be a lot harder than I thought._

"Snotface, you're here because… well because..." Fred looked deep into Lizzie's eyes, feeling himself tremble along with her as he held her in his arms. "...if you’d stayed in the real world, you’d be dead. As in permanently."

Color drained from Lizzie's face as she searched Fred's eyes. “Dead?” The word repeated in her mind. “You’re serious?” He nodded, deep concern lining his features, no trace of the lighthearted, characteristic expressions she knew. This wasn’t a joke; he was absolutely serious. “Oh God… Can I ever go back?” Lizzie barely felt the tears falling from her eyes.

“I’m afraid not… Not as you were anyway.”

“Then this is it? I’m… I mean this?” She struggled to speak, looking around the hospital room for answers. “Is this the afterlife?” Lizzie wanted to understand, but fear and grief were at the forefront of her mind now. “I-I just got my life back… and now it’s gone?”

Fred pulled her closer and shut his eyes to hide his own shine of tears threatening to betray him. “Just the part you knew,” he said, doing his best to soothe her, which he didn’t feel he was doing a very good job.

Damion dropped his magazine. "What IS IT with you two!? You’re boring me to death! Bloody hell! Can’t she be as amusing as you were when we brought you in? You at least feared you’d become a flesh-craving zombie when I explained it all to you! Now she’s just confused. Honestly, it's not that hard a concept to get. I need a cigarette... or an aneurism. God, I'd bloody KILL for that last one." Damion rubbed his eyes in annoyance.

"Wait a minute…Fred thought...?" Lizzie pulled herself out of her friend’s embrace like she’d been given a physical shock. "You mean to tell me you've been _dead_... or SOMETHING, this whole time?!”

"I'm not dead!” he shouted with offense. “Well… yet."

“He's getting better!” Axel cackled gleefully from the other side of the room.

“Oh sod off!” Fred spat, before turning back to Lizzie. “I use to be human, yes, but… Look, I’m the same Fred I’ve always been.”

“And how long have you—”

“I'll explain my past later," he added, his gaze traveling around the room. _Much later._ “For now just listen to what I have to say, please?”

Lizzie's eyes were so wide she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to close them again. She was scared, but Fred had proven to be more trustworthy than anyone she'd ever known. _Except now you know he’s actually dropped dead_ , she thought with a groan. “Alright. I’m sorry.” She nodded at him. They were so going to have a talk later. “Go on.”

“I promise you’re not anything terrible. Being here just means that you’re, um, sort of... Well, what I mean to say is—”

“GET ON WITH IT!” all the gods shouted, both Favian and Enzo popping in for the chorus.

“Oh bloody hell! FINE.” Fred grasped both of Lizzie's hands and took a huge breath. “Snotface, you're now an unofficial imaginary friend.”

Lizzie's eyes crossed a moment, her body falling back to the bed only to be stopped by Fred's grasp pulling her back up. “I’m a… an imaginary friend?”

Damion lifted his hand. "Well, he's somewhat right. We haven't exactly bestowed upon you any such magical powers... yet." He sneered delightedly at Fred. "And here comes your catch, my eager and annoying minion. I'm now ready to throw it. Are you ready?" The whites of his teeth were almost blinding as he grinned.

"Alright.” Fred straightened defiantly at the taller man. “What’re your terms?"

Disappointment filled Damion over Fred’s eagerness to listen, but he figured a protest would arise eventually and make his day. "Well, you see us bringing in Elizabeth at your request is a giant thing for us to do. It’s very circumstantial, if you will."

_Fred’s request?_ thought Lizzie.

Cale bitterly flicked the V, blowing a very loud raspberry in Damion’s direction.

“What? Complaining now? You like that word so much I thought I might show you how it’s properly used, you ripe bastard.” He rolled his eyes. “Now where was I? Oh yes! So we don't ever take normals onto the job, well we use to, but they didn’t handle it all so well… New tidbit of Other Otherworld history for you, Fred.” He smirked at him, relishing in the reveal. He hoped Fred were inwardly screaming.

Fred snorted. “Explains everything actually. No one normal could cope with you bunch of utter bastards.”

“Look, she'd be good as obliterated right now if you hadn’t begged so much! Count your lucky charms I’ve been this nice. Now, I think given these _generous_ circumstances... this calls for a trial run."

"Trial run?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I know we discussed a training period, but nothing was said about having her go through a trial.” Fred could feel Lizzie reach for his arm in an attempt to restrain him, but he deftly moved past her reach. "What exactly happens, Damion," he said, seething, "once she finishes her trial run?"

"There will be a series of tests to see if she's fit to be an imaginary friend." Damion met Fred's gaze without a blink.

"Tests? What bloody tests? I didn't have to do any tests!"

"You were meant to be here! There's a difference. This whole thing is a favor for you, now I could retract the offer and send her off to her funeral right now. I’m sure her mother will make it lovely."

Lizzie felt her stomach dive at that threat and this time she grabbed Fred’s hand, linking her fingers with his. Damion eyed their held hands. These two were awfully comfortable with one another...

"What sort of tests will they be?" Lizzie asked him, before Fred’s temper made things worse.

Damion smiled. "Now that's the attitude I like,” he said with a bounce on his heels. “Surprise tests," he added. "If Fred is willing to train you?"

“Of course I'm willing. What kind of person do you take me for?!"

“An imaginary one,” snickered Favian.

“Better than a bored god with nothing other to do than molest each other’s ears.” Fred muttered.

Damion snapped his fingers to regain the room’s focus. "I’m not finished yet.” He paused until everyone was looking at him. “You’ll have one month to train her," he said, “but then there’s also a few more things..."

"Of course there are," Fred replied bitterly. "Nothing is ever black and white when it comes to you lot."

Lizzie squeezed Fred's hand tighter as Damion started to speak. "You will still remain as Natalie's imaginary friend while you train Elizabeth. I know usually the trainer gets a break during this time, but after such horrific events with the death and all Natalie'll be needing you more than usual." He smirked at Fred. "And with Elizabeth not being a full-fledged IF, no one but you will be able to see her."

Fred merely blinked as he stood there trying to wrap his head around the terms Damion just outlined. "No one will be able to see her… except for me?"

"Precisely. Is that deafness of hers catching?"

"I've got something you can catch," Fred muttered under his breath. "So, technically, Lizzie’s gonna be my imaginary friend, while I'm Natalie's imaginary friend? That's ridiculous!"

A smile crept over Axel’s lips and he snickered. "What's the matter? Scared of having an imaginary friend, Fred?" he teased.

Fred pulled his hand away from Lizzie's and ran it over his face in frustration. He paced around the room, still trying to come to grips about the situation at hand. "Do you have ANY idea on how hard this is going to be?" he asked, finally stopping in front of Lizzie's bed.

Lizzie tensed at seeing this new side to Fred. Somehow she'd never quite realized how important his job was or how serious he might actually take it. Up until now she had only known her imaginary friend as someone who only ever wanted to have fun, or to comfort and cheer her up when she was down. But now she saw a glimpse of something else, more than what she’d peeked at so briefly during their goodbye: He was still very human.

"Do you know how confusing this will be for Natalie if I screw this up?” asked Fred, turning to Damion. "And what happens if Lizzie fails the trials?"

The god looked up at the ceiling a moment as he collected his thoughts. That headache of his was making a running start again. He was thinking of calling it ‘Little Fred.’

"Yes, I know it will be hard, but I can't really have Natalie seeing her, now can I? She knows her. That would be admitting there's sometimes life after death. That would cause all _sorts_ of problems. Do you want her father calling up the Vatican, or worse, the local news stations, trying to show the world this fascinating discovery? And what about the girl? If her father were concerned enough, he’d cart her off to the nearest clinic for a series of psychological tests and some of those little, green pills I’m sure you fondly recall.” He winked at Lizzie, causing her to shrink back with guilt. Satisfied, Damion continued, "And in summation… _if_ she fails... well then she can't stay."

The words sunk in and the color left Fred's face. "But if she can't stay, that means she'll truly die! They’ve already unplugged all those machines from her body back in the real world!" Fred's mind reeled from the repercussions of the whole ordeal and his gaze moved to Lizzie. "There's no going back now, is there?"

“I guess not,” she whispered.

Damion could see the depth of fear in Fred's eyes and it only solidified his suspicions about his true intentions. "We'll leave you two to discuss this briefly and then we'll return." He smiled at Fred and in a blink all the gods vanished from the room with Lizzie staring in disbelief.

Yes, she'd seen Fred do that trick a thousand times, but somehow this was on a whole new level.

Fred closed his eyes, wondering once again if all of this had been a huge mistake on his part. The chances of this going badly seemed astronomical with Lizzie's true fate resting in his hands.

_I won't muck this up._

Turning, Fred found Lizzie perched on the edge of the bed, her facial expressions giving away everything she felt inside. He could see her trepidation and fear; however, her eyes showed him something else: trust. Pure and unmistakable. "So, now you know," he whispered.

"It’s so hard to wrap my head around… I always knew you were more than just my imagination, but I never would've guessed... _this_.” Her eyes widened for emphasis.

Fred gave her a mischievous smile. “Better imaginary than dead.”

“Or undead.” She chuckled, but it faded into the wake of her sadness. “Fred, I can’t believe what you did for me. Thank you."

Fred wasn't sure on how to respond, especially when her gaze bore into his. Of course he had wanted to save her, but his feelings about all the reasons WHY he had needed to do so still confused him.

"The accident,” he began, “I- I just wanted you to have a chance." He fidgeted with the fabric on his sleeve, frustrated that the words he was looking for seemed to be evading him at all costs. "I thought the end didn't justify the means." He let out a sigh and dropped to sit beside Lizzie on the bed. "It wasn't fair."

“Thank you,” she said, shaking with disbelief and awe. They both enveloped and rendered her speechless. Lizzie had always known Fred had cared for her more than anyone, he’d proven it enough, but for the depth of his friendship to go this far… a huge part of her felt she didn’t deserve it.

Especially after those green pills.

"You’ve… I don’t think I could ever repay you for this.” She offered him a weak smile. All words seemed useless as a form of thanks after what he had just done for her and she knew whatever Damion’s tests would be, she had to pass them. It was the closest she would ever come to repaying him. Leaning forth, Lizzie gently laid a kiss on his cheek.

Fred’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head and he hastily pulled himself away from Lizzie, trying to will away the blush that burst over his face. “Yes, well… um, don’t worry about it. At least that girl Fartpants was able to bring Natalie with him to the hospital.” A scowl promptly took over his face at the very thought of Mickey. “While it’s killing me to say this, if that idiot hadn’t done that I’d have never known how serious the situation was.”

“Well, thank goodness for Mickey, then.” Lizzie could tell that talking about the accident pained him about as much as it did her. She needed to change the subject for them both. "Can you tell me one last thing?”

Fred’s brow furrowed.

“That picture I had today, did you see it?”

“The one that you were showing Girly McFarpants?" A glimmer of mischievousness sparked in his eyes.

“Yep. That one, it’s of you, isn't it?" Lizzie held her breath, expecting a joke instead of the real answer, which she burned to know.

"If you must know, yes. That was me before I became… _this_ ," he said, gesturing to himself and catching the smile breaking over Lizzie’s face. "But let’s not discuss that here, especially with those asshats lurking about." He cast a look around the room, knowing while they might have left, the chances of them listening in were very high; he'd bet his suspenders on it. "Anyways, I know you’ve probably got questions about being imaginary and all, might as well clear the air before they come back."

"Good because I’ve got a lot of them, but this is all... possible, right? You training me? Have you even done this before?"

"Erm, well, no you’d be my first trainee, but technically yes, it’s all possible. I am Drop Dead Fred, after all.”

His smile did anything but to instill confidence and Lizzie found herself finally understanding some of Fred’s fears. “Was it easy for you to learn everything?"

Fred stroked his chin; his mind trying to conjure up the old memories. "I'm not sure ‘easy' would be the exact word for it. My circumstances were completely different than yours. However, Axel was the one who showed me the ear trick. Mind you, that is the least gross of all the positions an IF can make with their body parts."

Lizzie snorted, giving Fred a quick once over. "Are you sure all your bits are in order in then?" she teased. He erupted with laughter.

"Yes my bits are well in order, despite Axel's attempts to teach me to tie them into balloon animals, which by the way, you'd better thank your lucky knickers that I'm going to be teaching you and not him. My willy was a poodle for damn near a week!”

Lizzie choked, laughing so hard she covered her face with her hands. The sight made him grin. "Snotface?” he asked.

“Yes?” She tried to compose herself.

“You do know this will be difficult, don't you? I'll have to walk a very fine line between giving my attention to Natalie and you."

“I know and I’ll give it my all, Fred. I promise.” She held out her pinky, staring him in the eyes until he linked his finger with hers.

"I know you will, but it’s gonna be tricky at first seeing as how I’ve never done this before.” _And I’m bound to make mistakes_ , he thought, unhooking their fingers and taking Lizzie's hands in his own. He gave them a firm squeeze. “Natalie’s my charge now, and I want you to know my job’s important, regardless of how I may act. I DO take it seriously; you'll need to do the same."

Lizzie nodded. "Of course. I’ll do whatever it takes. I'll watch you whenever you're with her to pick up on everything I can." A lump wedged in her throat. She wasn't use to this side of Fred and while there was a time when she had craved for him to act this way, right now it brought her trepidations about how everything would turn out. What if everything did fail and she couldn’t stay? If she failed _him_?

A swirl of lights flashed as they gods returned to the room, lined up before the two reunited friends like a firing squad. Damion sneered, flinging his arms out with excitement, and a shovel gripped in one hand.

“Miss us?” he asked with a laugh.

_Oh for fuck's sake… He's got the shovel again._ Fred rolled his eyes.

“What the hell?" Lizzie shouted, clutching her pounding chest.

"That's a completely different place, and besides, doesn't exist, except... well, ask Fred." He chuckled. "So, are you both in agreement over giving this _trial_ a go?" Damion impatiently flipped the shovel around in his hands.

"I agree to the terms. It's not like I can say no anyways," answered Fred.

"Not if you don’t want to lose your special friend," Damion said, tossing the shovel to his right hand and grinning morbidly at Fred. "And you," he said, pointing the tip of the handle at Elizabeth, "do you agree to the terms and blah, blah, blah and so forth? There will be cake afterward."

Lizzie's eyes rounded and she edged closer to Fred. “Why the hell does he have that thing?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth. Her mind flashed to the morning Fred had re-entered her life. She could still feel that headache.

“Why do you think?” answered Fred.

"I, uh... agree to the terms."

"You might want to ask for a helmet right about now,” added Fred. “Trust me, that thing isn't for gardening purposes." He took a step away from her.

“Oh God…”

In a blur, Damion lifted the shovel as Lizzie ducked, flinging her arms ups in an effort to shield herself from the blow, but nothing happened. The god had paused in his upswing.

"You know... I feel like a change in format today,” he said, lowering his favorite tool and turning to Fred.

“I'll bury you with that thing if you even try. God knows how much you've addled my brains over the years."

Damion snickered. "As much as I'd LOOOOOVE to hit you again, I think it's only fitting that you christen the new arrival." He held the shovel out for Fred to take. "Since you wanted her here so badly, you knock her full of powers."

Axel snickered in the background. "Ol' Fred's gonna knock her up."

Lizzie leapt up from the bed, quickly holding the back of her gown shut as she realized her missing undergarments. Her gaze flitted wildly between Fred, Damion, and their shovel. "Can't this be done some other way?" she asked, but she knew better. Fred hadn't had any problems hitting her in the head with one before and she wouldn't put it past him now. “Fred, don’t you dare!”

Taking the shovel, Fred turned it over in his hands, contemplating the transfer of powers and the deal he'd made with this group of devils. He could see poor Lizzie shaking from the corner of his eye.

_Oh, sod it._

Shooting Damion a final look of glee, Fred spun around and smacked Lizzie hard atop the head. Blue sparks drizzled around her after the blow and she careened back to the bed.

"There, quick and painful," he said.

"You make me so proud," said Damion, snatching back his shovel.

"Well, I do enjoy the excitement of smacking someone upside the head with gardening tools," Fred replied, sending Damion a wicked grin. "So are you at least going to show her how to activate the magic before this trial run starts?"

Damion twisted and rolled his shovel around in his hands a few more times before making it disappear. He was admittedly surprised Fred had agreed to hitting Elizabeth, and so hard, but his suspicions weren't diminished very much. Fred was a destructive bastard, after all. Could very well be how he got his jollies, though he didn’t care to go into it. "Hmm, well I suppose it's only fair, since we do give everyone a preview. You didn't knock her completely out, did you?"

Lizzie groaned from her sprawled out position on the bed, head clutched in her hands. "Fred, I'm going to kill you,” she hissed.

"Another time perhaps. Now sit up and pay attention." Fred pulled Lizzie up into a sitting position before moving away from the bed. "I'll be over here, away from the splash zone. Watch your bits."

Lizzie scowled at her so-called best friend, sauntering away with a skip while she still tried to get her eyes to refocus. "Ohhh…” she moaned. “Why don't I like the sound of that?"


	7. Chapter 6: A Cronut Out of Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:
> 
> zombierose3: Sorry this update took a little longer than the last few chapters. I started a career college and it's moving at warp speed, then I got really sick after some dental work. :P This fic will still have updates, though. I promise. Thank you for reading and for your continued patience. :) You are all awesome and I love and read all your reviews.
> 
> This is also the last full chapter that I wrote with Halo4aNoose, outside of my edits/additions. The next chapter has a small portion of her and I together, and I have a smattering of the chapter after it with her, but after that it's just going to be me and my friend, Pandora the Muse, finishing this since I don't believe she will be continuing this with me (and Pandora is magical and will help do this justice).
> 
> Special thanks to my beta reader and new co-writer, Pandora the Muse, for her ideas, improvements, and awesomeness!
> 
> Pandora the Muse: Hi! I usually help zombierose3 by beta reading. I help add a little more wackiness to those crazy gods. The Little Mermaid bit was my idea. I do not own The Little Mermaid nor am I making money from this, I just love Disney and helping friends. :)
> 
> Disclaimers: We still don't own Drop Dead Fred, or Monty Python, or The Little Mermaid, and still aren't making a single profit off of this story.

**Chapter Six**

_Things Go From Bad to ****ing Worse_

_or_

_Life Sucks & Then You're a Human Cannonball_

_or_

_A Cronut Out of Water_

* * *

Lizzie remained still as the hospital room around her swirled and morphed into a circus tent with herself, Fred, and the gods standing center ring. The change reminded her of the place Fred had taken her to before their goodbye, only this setting instilled her with a different sense of unease. Here she felt exposed, like a cornered animal about to be on display for their entertainment. Looking around she couldn't help but think the room itself was mocking her for her childhood wish from the summer she had wanted to run away to the circus with Fred. But a room couldn't know that, could it?

"Ready for your demonstration?" asked Damion.

Blinking out of her thoughts, Lizzie nodded, and steeled herself out of an ever-growing distrust for these gods. "As I'll ever be..." she said, pulling the back of her hospital gown shut. _What have I gotten myself into?_ "But I'd like to know one more thing. Just what kind of gods are you exactly?"

Damion pretended to yawn. "Step forward."

"But you haven't answered my question."

"Miss Cronut, if you can't even follow a singular command we'll save ourselves the trouble right now and toss you off into the grave. My shovel's waiting."

Lizzie gulped, her mouth running dry. "It's CroNIN," she squeaked, "and I'm not getting tossed anywhere, thank you." Her eyes slanted.

Damion smirked. "We'll see about that..."

"If I'm going to work for you I want to know what you are."

"Why? Have a thing against gods? Are you speciesist? Will you protest working for us?" Damion asked. "Demand equal pay? Well, fat lot of that happening!"

"I still deserve an answer... and," she spoke very slowly in an effort to control her tone, "I'm _not_ a cronut."

"Well you're not getting an answer; you haven't said the magic words."

"Oh not this again..." She rolled her eyes. "Look--"

"You're wasting your breath, Snotface," said Fred from where he sat upon one of the bleachers. "I've been here for decades and they've still never told me."

"Decades? But that's ridiculous!"

"Kinda the point," he lamented.

Damion flicked his fingers, creating a magical force which yanked Lizzie through the air, bringing her to hover before him. Her toes brushed against the ground and he watched her unamused as she tried to wriggle out of his invisible grasp. "It's time to start your demonstration, Miss Cronut. If you're done questioning me?"

"I guess it's not like I have much of a choice," she hissed through her teeth.

"Look at this way," Enzo chimed in, "you've already died today, can't get much worse from where you're sitting, can it?"

"You mean floating," Favian mumbled.

"Obviously, but you do know how I love a challenge," Damion quipped. He pulled back his hand and Lizzie dropped to her knees upon the dirt floor with a yelp. "Probably why I torture myself by bringing in strays..."

"Let's just get this over with," she whispered, slowly pushing herself back onto her feet. She realized now asking these gods anything was useless. The sooner she got out of here, the sooner she could get some real answers from Fred, maybe, and perhaps try to process what this new life of hers would entail.

She hoped for one it would have a lot less of Damion...

Axel, meanwhile, had sat himself down beside Fred, and while laughing, elbowed him in the ribs. "Look, she already seems to be catching on much quicker to the way things work than you did on your first day."

Collectively the gods laughed, putting their fingers behind their ears to simulate devil horns. Lizzie watched as Fred's face flushed and he sprang up with fists clenched.

"Oh piss off! You bastards are never gonna let that go, are ya?"

"Nope," said Cale, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, they never let anything go."

Damion flicked his tongue out at Fred, mimicking a snake as he made a framed photograph drop into Lizzie's hands.

Startled, she fumbled with it before getting a good grip and glimpsed at the picture. Her jaw dropped when she saw the familiar face. "Is... Is that... No. That's not Fred, is it?" she asked, peering closer at the photo of him covered in mud and screaming in terror.

"No!" Fred shouted, appearing in a blink of green light beside Lizzie. "Don't look at that, Snotface," he exclaimed, trying to snatch it, but Lizzie spun around, dodging all his attempts with a wicked grin on her face.

"His first day, actually," Damion answered.

"Oi! I told you to stop giving those out!" Fred materialized a sledgehammer and made a swing for the photograph, startling Lizzie into dropping it. She leapt out of the way just in time as Fred smashed the offensive memory in one fell swoop, then spat on it.

"Are you INSANE?" Lizzie shouted.

Fred just stared at her as if he were confused by the question.

"Well?"

"Well what? Of course I bloody am! Geez, Snotface! I haven't been away from you that long. Did you forget me already? Look at who I work for!"

Rolling her eyes, she let out a breath. "Of course... Why do I even ask you anymore?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "But if you're expecting me to answer any different, then I'm sorry, but you're just as insane as me." He flipped his hands around, the sledgehammer vanishing back into nothing. He smiled ever-so-cheerfully at her.

Lizzie had to inhale slowly in an effort to compose herself before she throttled him. "Just promise me _one_ thing. Okay?"

His eyes widened to show he was listening.

"Stop hitting me with things!" Lizzie reached out and smacked him on the arm.

"Ow!" He jumped back. "Hey! Is that any way to thank me for saving your life?"

"You hit me with a shovel AND swung a sledgehammer at me!"

"And you're welcome! Now you've got powers, and technically I swung the hammer at that." He pointed at the photograph. "Which I told you not to look at by the way. I can't help it if you chose to be a Snotface and ignore me as you do." He sneered at her, indignantly, folding his arms and bouncing into his slouch.

Lizzie groaned. "I don't know how you do it, but the more I argue with you the less sense you make."

Fred grinned. "Practice."

"Having a little trouble adjusting, are we?" asked Damion, grinning.

The question immediately wiped away Fred's smile.

"Snotface's fine; she can handle anything. Just get on with your stupid show and stop showin' photos so we can get out of here. I've got a lot to teach her and Fishface's waiting for me." Fred sulked back to the bleacher and plopped down. "I'm bored already."

Damion smirked. "Oh Fred, are you that pissed off over a little photo to commemorate the day you dropped dead and ended up on our doorstep?"

"Ugh! I hate you lot," he answered, picking his nose and flicking a piece of snot at Enzo, causing the god to scream.

"Was your first day really that bad?" Lizzie asked.

"Bad? Bad? HA!" He rolled his eyes. "Let's put it this way, when I woke up, it was a _much_ darker scene than the one you got stuck with." He snapped his fingers, a cup of tea appearing in his other hand. Snapping again, a bottle of scotch appeared in the air, pouring into the cup and disappearing as Fred lifted the cup for a sip.

Lizzie blinked. All this needed was an entourage of dolls to accompany him and it would be her childhood all over again, well minus the fact he wasn't jumping up on the table and breaking her tea sets... or filling them with mud, or her Cornflakes.

Axel snorted. "Yeah, it was much darker indeed! Ol' Damion here had Fred thinkin' he'd woken up in Hell! Scared him so bad he pissed himself!"

"I did NOT!"

"Oh god... That's awful." Lizzie looked at Fred with sympathy. She couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. They had all terrified her enough with their faux hospital, but to wake up thinking you were dammed... She glanced at the marred photograph near her feet.

"It was VERY awful," he reiterated. "Bastards."

"But that doesn't explain why you're all covered mud..."

Fred's eyes flashed with a look Lizzie had never seen on him before and he jumped up on the bleacher. Unintelligible stammering erupted from him as he paced along the seat, until finally hopping back down and saying, "It was a long time ago, how should I know?"

"Umm... okay..." Lizzie could tell she had hit another nerve, and decided not to pry.

"Now that we've wasted all this time..." Damion interjected, "Enzo, if you will begin."

Smiling, Enzo stepped forth and swiped his hand, creating a large assortment of decorative pillows within the center of the room. They varied in pastel colors, were draped in lace and ribbons, and appeared to be made of silk. More jutted out of the ground as a wall behind Lizzie, and a web-like netting appeared across the way.

"Oh, can I do this part?" Cale asked excitedly. "I promise not to drop her."

"Drop me?" Lizzie tensed.

"I don't know, Cale," Damion began. "You know how Enzo loves to do this part, and you have been restricted ever since Never-Say-No Wednesdays."

"Oh not this again," muttered Fred. "You know how sick I am of this stupid argument?"

"Come on!" whined Cale. "So I made Adolf Hitler an imaginary friend one time, per the rules of Never-Say-No Wednesdays. Does that mean I should be marked for life?"

Lizzie audibly choked.

"YES!" shouted Fred.

"Hey, your vote doesn't count!" said Cale.

"We'll discuss this later during our ear-circling meeting," Damion said, with a warning tone.

Without realizing, Lizzie had inched closer to her former imaginary friend, keeping her eyes locked on the increasingly questionable gods. "Fred... just a quick question... have you handed me off to supernatural circus people?"

"Oh no, I've handed you off to much worse."

"That's not comforting."

"Pfft! I'm not one of Enzo's girlie pillows."

"Fred, please be serious here. Tell me something? What're they going to do to me?"

His face softened and he stood back up. "Just get through this as quickly as you can. The sooner we get out of here, the better. Remember they can't hurt you. You're like me now, Snotface."

Her mind flashed with the memories of Fred's face getting flattened in her mother's fridge, and of the time he was hit by the fire truck. "Okay." She nodded, suddenly feeling a lot more reassured over whatever was about to happen.

"Now, go and be a brave, little cronut and show them the Snotface I know you are." He smirked at her.

Shaking her head, Lizzie picked her nose and wiped a piece of snot on Fred's shoulder, causing him to feign disgust and convulse. She laughed, feeling some renewed confidence begin to surge through her, that is, until Damion interrupted.

"Alright, enough of this!" he shouted.

Using his magic, Damion flung Lizzie upside down and into the air, throwing her toward the pillows on the opposite wall. She had no time to secure her hospital gown from falling up before revealing herself to the Other Otherworld and quickly felt herself die for the second time that day as the breeze whisked over her behind.

Fred's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw Lizzie's bare bum flying by overhead. He watched, unable to move as she screamed and hurried to cover herself back up before hitting the cushions. The magic held her suspended, but still upside down. A red-faced Lizzie held her hospital gown up as best she could, obviously too embarrassed to do anything else.

At long last, Fred finally blinked.

"OI! Give her some shorts or something! She's got bits flying all over the place!" He noticed the other gods looking at him with peculiar expressions on their faces. "Well?! You can't expect her to concentrate with her bum out in the open!"

_Or me for that matter._

His heart pounded and he couldn't even bring himself to look at Lizzie for the moment. _That's a position you never want to see your best friend in_ , he told himself.

"Least now you know all the bits are in the right place," Favian snickered, drawing laughs from the others.

"That didn't mean I wanted to see them!"

"Of course not," said Damion with sarcasm.

"Look, she's my best friend. You think I want to see that, you're sicker than I am! Now cover her up for fuck's sake or don't waste your time if her head's not gonna be in this!" Fred seethed, he'd never felt so angry at this lot, but his earlier thought continued to plague him and he wanted nothing more than to get some clothes on Lizzie before something else compromising happened.

_Shut up, brain._

"Flustered, Fred?"

"No! It's just common decency!" His eyes widened. _Did I really just say that?_

Damion smiled.

"I mean... Look, you've made me solely responsible for her and she's been through enough today!" Fred gestured wildly. "It's the decent thing to do to! At least cover her whose-its and whats-its--"

Enzo suddenly cut him off, boldly singing, "Galore! You want thingamabobs! I've got twenty! But who cares? No big deal! I've--" Enzo was interrupted midstream by a giant pile of fish falling on top of him, burying him from sight.

"Oh look. Herring!" Axel chirped.

Lizzie's eyes were shut tight while listening to the entire, humiliating conversation â€” and song. She could feel the blush all over her body as she somehow pressed against the wall of pillows, defying gravity. This day just kept getting worse... and now that song was stuck in her head along with the question of when had Fred _and_ Enzo seen _The Little Mermaid_?

"So then you'd like me to change her clothes?" asked Damion, pointedly as if nothing had happened.

Fred paused. _Yeah._ _Like I'm gonna trust you after that._ "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to do it myself."

"Very well."

"Right then." Breathing a sigh of relief, Fred sat his drink down and popped over to Lizzie in a spark of green. "You okay?" he whispered, crouching down to be eye level with her.

"Just perfect... I've been hit by a truck today, died, and now I've exposed myself to otherworldly perverts!" She managed to crack her eyes open a teeny bit to look at Fred. "Just get me out of this and then _please_ never speak of this again."

Fred did his best to give her a reassuring grin, albeit it came out more as a crooked smirk. "Can't quite do that yet, Snotface. However, perhaps you'll be a bit more comfortable after this..."

Stepping back, he snapped his fingers, ready to admire his handiwork.

Lizzie now wore a purple T-shirt tucked into a pair of shorts.

Well, they weren't shorts exactly...

They were more like boxer shorts.

White boxer shorts with red hearts all over them.

_Wait a second..._

"Dammit, Damion!"

"What are you blaming me for now?" Damion rattled back.

Fred spun around. "That's NOT the clothing I conjured."

"Isn't it?" he asked, his voice hitching with curiosity as he peered at Lizzie. "Where DID those come from?"

Fred vibrated with anger. "Get those off of her... NOW!"

"Why? Are they yours or something?"

"You very well damn know those are MY jockey shorts!"

Lizzie choked, her gaze wandering down to the front of Fred's green trousers and then to her newly acquired boxer shorts. "I'm so done with this day..."

"What, you wanted her covered up," Damion said. "With all the goodness of your..." He snickered. "...heart." The gods behind him all started laughing like a pack of hyenas.

Enzo chose that moment to pop out of the pile of fish. "You ruined my big moment! Which one of you wankers hit me with fish?"

Bastion snickered behind his hands.

Cursing their names, as well as the day he'd purchased those atrociously froofy shorts when he was human, Fred tried numerous times to replace the boxers with the trousers he'd intended, but his magic had no effect. Damion had overridden him.

"Death by shovel... I SWEAR I'll get my revenge," Fred mumbled through gritted teeth. "Fine!" He turned back to Lizzie, who incidentally had become as red as the little hearts on his boxers. "Just don't soil them. They're vintage and they're the only pair I've got."

"I'll try to control myself," Lizzie remarked with a less than amused expression. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but exactly how long have you been wearing these?"

"Since 1969," Favian muttered.

"Oh, oh god... Fred, why?"

"Because that's when I died, no brain! They didn't let me take anything else! Be glad I had any at all."

"You know, it's true," said Enzo. "Mothers always say to wear clean undies in case you die that day. What they really should be saying is wear two because then you have another for the afterlife." All the fish then disappeared, except for one, which Enzo pretended was swimming around. "What would I give to live where you are!" he sang quietly to his new fish and friend.

"There, you see?" Fred waggled his finger at Lizzie before crossing his arms in awkwardness and wriggling his hips. "So itchy without them..." Reaching down, he scratched his behind, until noticing all eyes were on him. "Stop staring or you'll get another eyeful!" he shouted at the group.

"Relax, I'll zap them back to you when we're through," said Damion.

"Oh, how generous to give me back my own jockeys."

Lizzie meanwhile was mortified. She could barely look Fred in the eye. What the hell was the game with these gods?

"Now that Miss Cronut's modesty's been restored, shall we move along, Fred?" asked Damion.

Fred responded with a flick of the V's before blinking away back to his seat upon the bleachers.

"Finally. Didn't think I could ever get him to shut up," added Damion. "Enzo, if you'll proceed."

Lizzie let out a deep breath, trying to pull herself back together. Maybe this demonstration wouldn't be so bad? After all, Enzo seemed the least demented of the gods-- he wasn't trying to maim her anyway. Still, she braced herself for the worst because these guys were not even insane; there wasn't even a word for them. They actually made Fred look normal.

"Don't worry. You're in good hands with me and Mr. Herring," Enzo assured her with a smile as he used his powers to gently pull Lizzie from the wall. As if on cue, a violent sneeze suddenly overthrew him, which launched Lizzie straight for Fred, knocking him from the bleachers. Together they toppled to the ground, Lizzie pinning him beneath her as his tea cup spilled and rolled away in the opposite direction of the crash.

"Oops." Enzo sniffled, sheepishly. "Sorry. Allergy season." He resumed playing with Mr. Herring.

"You know," said Bastion, "this recently being a hospital you'd think they'd make it more hypoallergenic."

Groaning, Lizzie warily lifted her head up from Fred's shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me... How in the hell does a god have allergies?" she asked, disoriented from her recent stint as a human cannonball. _So much for not being maimed by Enzo_.

Fred blinked several times, before Lizzie's question processed in his mind. "The bastard doesn't," he answered, before gently helping to push her up from his chest. "Listen," he whispered, "you want to stop them in their tracks? Next time they try and teleport you, concentrate on one spot in the room and focus on it, think and _feel_ what _you_ want. Right now they're trying to make you mad enough so you'll tap into your magic. That's the key in the beginning, figuring out how to turn it on. Magic's like a muscle, it needs a trigger to move it. Once you're in control of that trigger, you can move it however you want. Anger's just gonna muck it up, though if you only stick to that, and that's what they want right now."

"Because they don't think I belong here?"

Fred looked her in the eyes and nodded. "That's exactly the reason."

"Okay... I think I understand... sorta," she said, trying to wrap her mind around his advice. There were plenty of things she both thought and felt, but she still didn't feel any "magic muscle" waiting for her to activate it. Truthfully, she still just felt like plain, old Lizzie.

"Remember how you made that tree grow to get us upstairs right before I left?" he asked.

"The tree? But I just used my imagination when--"

Lizzie gasped as the pull of magic suddenly knocked her back to the center of the ring.

"Sorry about before," said Enzo. "So embarrassing, really. Just to be safe, though, Axel's gonna take over from here."

"Lovely. I hope he has a better imaginary immune system." Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"Just don't break her, you twat," Fred replied, throwing a brief glance at Axel before pushing himself from the floor to brush himself off.

"Of course not. I'll leave that job to you," he answered with a snide gleam and a flick of his wrist. His magic sent Lizzie spinning and screaming in a blur of purple and limbs until halting altogether. He left her to dangle upside down, flailing and gasping in protest.

"Would you stop that?" she cried.

"Ehhh. No. We're far from done yet."

"I swear if I ever get down from here..."

"Aw. Don't be angry, Cronut."

Axel's choice of word triggered the memory of Fred's advice, and suddenly Lizzie knew exactly what she had to do. Or so she hoped.

"I suppose," said Damion as he stepped closer to her, "that by now I should offer a bit of an explanation as to what we're doing."

"It would help," said Lizzie, bitingly.

"Triggering magic is never easy in the beginning. Most never even feel it within them. Magic's like an emotion, but different than the others. More so because it'll make things happen."

"So this is how you try to get it to come out," she answered.

"Precisely. There's no real way to explain it other than that. There's nothing mechanical to it, no practicality. Sort of why the off-balanced are better suited for wielding it." His gaze drifted in Fred's direction. "So, Miss Cronut, you've got your work indeed cut out for you..."

"She'll do it," said Fred. "You don't have to worry about Snotface."

"Who said I was worried?"

Axel began ticking Lizzie back and forth like the pendulum of a clock, but she didn't struggle. She didn't say a word. Damion's information had left her unnerved. The magic wasn't innate? She suddenly wondered if an imaginary friend could still throw up.

"So, which way shall we go now?" Axel asked of the others, moving his fingers side to side in sync with the sway of Lizzie's body.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

She had to do this _._

Concentrating, Lizzie fought against every doubt, every impulse which told her she would fail. The gods were only trying to prove her wrong, just as everyone else had in her short span of life, save for one.

Opening her eyes, she looked at Fred and decided she needed to listen to the only person who had ever seen through everyone else's bullshit about who she was.

Lizzie imagined herself back on the ground, safe, and beside Fred. She let herself feel how much she wanted it, tried to envision moving toward him, and believing it could happen. Her body trembled under the weight, nothing changing, yet still she tried, straining to reach this power sleeping inside her.

Meanwhile, Fred nervously bounced on his heels. _Come on, Snotface. Don't you bloody let me down now._

But nothing happened.

The slow laughter of Damion filled the air and Lizzie felt Axel's hold on her release, dropping her to the ground.

"Time's up," Damion decreed. "Thus ends the lesson. Such a pity. I'm sorry, Miss Cronut."

Lizzie tried to sit up, but felt so heavy. Her heart, which had been pounding, now seemed to sink into her stomach. She tried to speak, to look at Fred, but she couldn't move. What was happening? She wanted to scream. _I don't want to die...again_ , she thought, but darkness consumed her and she felt the world slip away.


	8. Chapter 7: Pull My Magic Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie's life is picking up until an accident changes everything and sends Drop Dead Fred to ask for the biggest favor imaginable in order to save her. Starts with the origin of how Fred became an imaginary friend. FredXLizzie pairing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:
> 
> **zombierose3: Here's our extra long present to everyone who's been reading and waiting so long for the additions. Thank you for the reviews, they mean so much. We wrote this chapter for all of you guys, and we have a lot more planned. Hope you like it. :)
> 
> Thank you, Pandora the Muse for stepping in to be my co-author because you bring so much more to Lizzie than I ever could and you're hilarious. Also, thank you, Halo4anoose. We still have a few pieces from you in this chapter. :)
> 
> **Pandora the Muse: I just want to say thanks to zombierose3 for putting up with my crazy ideas and when my grammar gets out of control. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I enjoy reading your reviews so much! Also, I hope you all really enjoy this chapter and all that was put into it. :) I don't want to spoil anything. Enjoy!
> 
> **Disclaimers: We don't own Drop Dead Fred, Monty Python, The Omen, Alice in Wonderland, The Twilight Zone, FIFA, Keds, brolly hats or anything else for that matter! We're starving artists! There are some paraphrased quotes so please don't think we're that profound, we're not. Quotes paraphrased are originally by William Shakespeare and Noam Chomsky.

**Chapter Seven**  

_Pull My Magic Finger_

* * *

Lizzie woke with a groan, her mind hazy. What had happened? Where was she? Darkness enveloped her, the air still and heavy, oppressive like the void around her. She lay against something soft and padded. Groggily, she lifted her hand toward her head, but her knuckles smacked a cushioned surface just inches above her body. Her heart thudded.

Frantically, she reached up, feeling for her surroundings, encountering more padding on all sides. It felt like a box; like she was in a padded box.

"Oh my God!" she cried, as a horrifying realization tore straight through to her core. "Is this... a coffin?"

Lizzie banged on the lid, struggling to breathe. "Let me out! Please! Oh god. I'm not dead! Let me out!" she screamed, her heart slamming against her ribcage. "Someone help me! Fred! Anyone!"

No one answered and a chilling emptiness filled her. Was she dead? Was this it?

"Fred?" Lizzie's voice cracked. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Drop Dead Fred! Can't you hear me?" Silence followed and she hit the lid with all she had. "Please!"

A light suddenly blinded her and she threw her hands over her eyes.

"You didn't say the magic words, Miss Cronut." A familiar voice cackled from above.

Lowering her hands, Lizzie saw Damion standing over her, grinning like a demented jackass.

"You- you locked me in a coffin?" Lizzie asked, her voice hoarse from screaming.

"Consider it a test. For my own amusement." He smiled, showing off all his teeth as he stepped away from the coffin's lid. "I give low marks on your pleas, but high marks for entertainment."

"I believed it!" said Enzo, dabbing his eyes with a lace handkerchief. "It was quite moving. If ever anyone wanted out of a coffin, it was you for certain."

Lizzie gaped. He had locked her in a coffin for his own amusement? Her eye twitched.

Sitting up, she saw the rest of the gods standing next to an angry Fred hogtied by a pair of pantyhose. Her eyes widened as she watched him squirm and kick on the floor with a wadded up sock shoved in his mouth. No wonder he hadn't answered her cries, or done anything.

Hurriedly, Lizzie exited the coffin, whirling on Damion. She glared, trying to form in her mind exactly what she wanted to say.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Cronut?" he asked, flashing an evil grin.

"You are the biggest asshole I've ever met in my life," Lizzie ground out between clenched teeth.

Damion smiled at her like she was a child. "Miss Cronut-"

That was as far as he got.

Lizzie cocked back her arm and punched Damion full in his face. The smack echoed in the silence that followed.

Lowering her arm, she stared at Damion and the perfect imprint of her fist in his face. No one moved or made a sound, until Enzo's nervous laughter filled the air.

"Gracious! She's rather quick, isn't she?"

Both Bastion and Axel exchanged glances, and together lifted scorecards above their heads.

"I give it a 9.5," said Axel.

"Are you daft? That's easily a 9.8. Look, you see every knuckle imprinted in his face." He pointed.

Cale sighed. "Only thing that would've made it perfect is if she'd knocked his head clean off in the end, but what do I know? I'm not allowed to vote..."

"People with power only understand violence," Favian murmured. "I read that somewhere."

Slowly, Damion raised his arm, put his thumb in his mouth, and exhaled. His head puffed out like a balloon, inflating back to normal. Growling, he looked at Lizzie with loathing, a flash of grudging admiration in his eyes.

"You only get one, Miss Cronut." He snapped his fingers, making Fred's bonds disappear. Behind him, Bastion and Axel quickly tossed away their scorecards, innocent smiles on their faces.

"Ha HA!" Fred rolled up onto his knees, holding his sides and convulsing with laughter. "Oh, Snotface- Bloody hell!" He gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "I've been tellin' you to do things like that for forever! Whew! This is the best moment of my life! It's 'bout time you damn well started listening to me! Oh, that was brilliant! Shit, I love it! He looked just like-" Fred stopped, trying to catch his breath. "He looked just like he was about to poo!"

Falling into a fit of cackles, he rolled toward the other five gods, landing on his back. "Did ya see what a wicked right hook my Snotface's got? See! I told you she was different! No sane person would've done that!" He beamed and hopped to his feet, planting them with a stomp.

"Hey, Damion! When's my turn? I want my one shot, you ruddy bastard." He balled up his fists, boiling with enthusiasm.

Damion waved his hand, a silver strip of duct tape appearing and flying over Fred's mouth, sealing it tight. Fred's muffled cries just made Damion smile. Why, he didn't even care about his orange and green headache's colorful hand gestures.

"Much better."

Meanwhile, Lizzie had barely heard Fred's raucous laughter or jeers. Her anger had completely faded, replaced with an ache in her stomach. What was going to happen to her now? Would he throw her in a straightjacket? Put her in a padded room and forget her for all eternity? Or worse, would he send her back to die? Her eyes locked with Damion's and he glared back. Lizzie waited for her punishment, and prayed he wouldn't put her back in the coffin.

"What-" Her voice squeaked. "What now?"

"Now we demand a shrubbery!" Enzo shrieked, suddenly wearing pink overalls and a straw hat adorned with an enormous pink flower.

"I hate... you all." Damion flicked a photograph at Lizzie, showing her screaming inside the coffin. A second appeared in his hand and he took a moment to admire it. She looked absolutely terrified. "This may be my new favorite," he said, smiling as he dropped it into his scrapbook, the binder vanishing in a blink. Damion then eyed Fred with a sinister gaze.

"So. Given that she's here by your _whining,_ and thanks to her outburst, I'll just have to figure out your favorite thing and ruin it so we're even."

Fred ripped off the duct tape and screamed. "Fucking hell, you wanker!" He patted his face, checking that everything was still in place before glaring at Damion. "Well, pfft!" He sent up a 'V' with his fingers. "Good luck with that. I have no secrets. You'd certainly use them against me if I did."

"Yes, you keep saying that, but I suspect the imaginary friend doth protest too much."

Lizzie frowned. What did Damion mean? Whatever he was getting at it, it left her with an ominous feeling and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She hoped she hadn't just sealed her fate by punching him in the face.

 _Really stupid, Lizzie_.

Fred merely waved off the threat. "Whatever, now stop harping on the fact that you've been one-upped, and if anything it was an improvement to your ugly, ugly face."

Damion dismissively waved at Fred. "Just shut it, or if she fails I'll be sending you both to oblivion just so I won't have to listen to you pissants ever again." He pointed at Lizzie and then to his face. "I won't forget this... Now, back to business before I lose my patience."

Lizzie's eyes widened. _Here it comes. I'm so dead. Again. This is too much for one person to handle._

"Time to..." Damion paused, grinning like a deranged Cheshire Cat. "Go!"

"Go?" Lizzie and Fred echoed.

"But aren't ya gonna show her anything else like you did with me?" Fred asked.

"What? Do you think I want to spend all my time with you lot?" Damion sneered. "Why would I lower myself to teach this cronut when I have you to do that, Frederik?"

Fred grimaced. "Oi. Don't call me that, or I'll smash in that dog's ass you call a face. It's Drop Dead Fred to you, tosser."

Damion rolled his eyes. "I say this with all the hatred I possess... GET OUT OF HERE, YOU SODDING MORONS!" Spittle flew from his mouth.

"Aw. We didn't have cake yet." Enzo pouted.

Bastion belched. "Sorry, I ate your fish."

"And I had a monologue prepared," said Axel.

"Mr. Herring!" Enzo screamed and began hitting Bastion with a plastic rake. "You bloody brute!"

Axel cleared his throat, a podium appearing before him as he donned black robes with a matching tam upon his head and small, rounded spectacles. When Enzo didn't stop his assault on Bastion, Axel made the rake disappear.

"Hey! That's my favorite rake! I use it to exfoliate!" Enzo cried.

Axel pretended not to hear and smiled at all of them; his audience. His public.

"Friends. Family. Denizens of the Other Otherworld... Welcome! We are gathered here to celebrate this momentous, and rather unheard of occasion. Our Former Imaginary Friend Acceptee, or FIFA. I coined that myself."

"Liar!" barked Bastion. "That's a bloody football organization and you know it!"

Axel put his nose in the air. "It is your word against mine." He adjusted his spectacles.

"No, it's reality against your delusions of grandeur!" cried Bastion.

"Show me your proof or stop interrupting me!" Axel straightened his robes, shooting Bastion a dirty look. "As I was saying, before that clearly deluded and uncouth pillock opened his big, fat mouth... Our _FIFA,_ who's now in training to be an imaginary friend, will soon be returned to the Boring Place. Or in laymen's terms, the real word." He paused, making air quotes and rolled his eyes.

"She'll go back to Minnesota, which as you know is the thirty-second state which occurred on the eleventh of May, the year 1858. This calls to mind that I had also had an epiphany on this very day, and it occurred to me that brollies can be so cumbersome. So I had found a way to wear a brolly and keep my hands free. Thus, the brolly hat was born!"

Axel pulled off his tam, revealing a small blue and white umbrella attached to elastic, which fitted around his head.

Enzo clapped with enthusiasm. "That is one of my favorites! It gets better with every telling!"

"It's a stupid story!" Bastion sneered. "I can't believe you believe his twaddle."

"It isn't twaddle! It's a valuable piece of history, you insensitive twat!" Axel marched over and shoved Bastion.

"Oh that's it! I'll show you insensitive, you brolly fascist!" Bastion tackled Axel, wrestling him to the floor.

"Oh! A monologue and a show. Lovely!" Enzo sat on a stool which magically appeared beneath him. Flicking his wrists, he conjured a small table with a tea set and lace doilies. "Wonderful." He clapped, using his magic to pour himself a floating cup of tea. Enzo plucked both the cup and saucer from the air and sipped daintily.

"Ah! Perfectly lovely. Do go on with the show." Enzo waved his hand, swapping his overalls and straw hat for a ball gown, a large-brimmed hat, and a matching, oversized bow with an enormous feather - All of it, pink. "I've been dying to wear my tea ensemble."

Meanwhile, Lizzie was taking this all in with wide eyes, her mouth agape. Was this really happening to her? She could never imagine something so ridiculous in a million years. This was like an even more disturbing version of _Alice in Wonderland._

_And I'm actually at a tea party. A mad tea party. As an imaginary friend._

"Elizabeth!" Enzo waved. "Do have a cup of tea before you nip out to mini soda."

Lizzie suddenly found herself sitting on a stool, dressed in a frilly, pink frock, white stockings, and black shoes. She caught Fred grimacing at her in disgust from across the way, pantomiming for her to check the top of her head. Lizzie frowned, and reached up to discover a big bow nesting in her hair as Enzo floated a tea cup and saucer over to her. Lizzie took it without a word.

"Lovely!" Enzo sipped from his cup. "It's hard to be a woman, isn't it, Elizabeth? Men tend to be all alike, and so judgmental. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Umm..." Lizzie's eyes rounded and she blinked at Enzo. She could honestly say she had never been in a situation like this before and words escaped her. "I really haven't been with a lot of men," she said, trying to politely dodge the question. She cleared her throat.

"Well, alright then. You're a good, but violent girl. Good on ya," he said with a nod.

"Depends on what your definition of 'good' is, I suppose," Fred muttered. He itched to get out of there and Lizzie's outfit was just about too much, even for him. "You look like Little Bo Peep and a cupcake had a baby and then threw up on it!" He shifted, picking a wedgie out of his behind. He smiled. "Hey! My jockeys are back!"

Lizzie snapped her head to the side and glared at Fred, but before she could respond, Enzo chimed in.

"Who's having a baby? It's not me." He looked over at Lizzie, his hand tilted to his mouth. "I'm between gentlemen at the moment. It's been ages. Is today Wednesday? I do so love Never Say No Wednesdays!"

"I don't!" Cale huffed. "No one lets me do anything anymore."

"No one ever asks me what I want to do," Favian mumbled so quietly Lizzie barely heard him.

"Oh, I wish this was circumstantial..." Cale whined.

Bastion rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up, will you? Honestly! Your thought process is circumstantial!"

"That doesn't even make sense, you sodding scoundrel." Cale crossed his arm, defensively, making Bastion fume.

"Oh! Yes it does! More than yours did! Oh, I hate you! You're always on that word! Let it go!"

Cale pretended to buff his fingernails. "How can I let it go when you've all grounded me for almost a century? I ask you, who're the ones who need to let it go? Huh?!"

Lizzie set her tea cup and saucer down on the table. "I, um, thank you for the tea." She stood up and shuffled over to Fred.

"You're welcome, dear. Have fun in mini baking soda!" Enzo chirped.

Lizzie turned to Fred. "Is he always confused?"

"Which one?" he asked.

Lizzie opened her mouth to reply 'Enzo,' but then realized that all of them seemed confused. "Nevermind."

Fred sneered at the giant bow on top of her head. "I don't know whether to unwrap you or throw up."

Lizzie looked down, suddenly remembering her ridiculous outfit. "Well, it is a step up from a hospital gown."

His face instantly heated at the reminder of that outfit, and he crossed his arms, trying to shake away the image. "I'll get you fixed up when we get outta here. Maybe a nice muumuu would do the trick."

"I would just be happy with a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt." Lizzie picked at the frilly dress and Fred joined her, reaching out and plucking at the fabric with a look of revulsion.

Slowly, his eyes glanced up to meet hers and due to the surrounding din from the bickering gods, he leaned close and whispered, "Glad to have you back, Snotface... and I'm sorry it's like this."

Lizzie nodded, unable to look him in the face. "Thanks." She sniffed. "I, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you."

He smiled. "Hey, that's why I'm Drop Dead Fred." He wriggled his hips, picked his nose, and wiped his finger over the offending outfit. "Best friends 'til the end."

Lizzie managed a grin and wiped her dress. She picked her nose, wiping her finger onto Fred's jacket.

"Hey, let's have a dance off!" Enzo jumped off his stool. A hat piled with fruit swayed on his head as he spun and cha-chaed about with a pair of maracas.

Damion rubbed his temples vigorously. "I should just drop them all in a pit. A pit with no end. They would fall forever and ever," he mumbled to himself.

Lizzie shivered, his tone the most disturbing sound of all.

"I'm giving you one evening to get sorted," he said. "But before you go thanking me, know I was outvoted by my... _colleagues_." Damion said the word with such disdain, Lizzie imagined he had swallowed a mouthful of bitter worms.

"So use your time wisely, Frederik and Miss Cronut. You're going to need it." Damion looked over at Enzo. "You may have pulled a fast one with your vote this time, but I won't be forgetting this. Ever."

Enzo merely smiled and glanced at Lizzie. "You're welcome. I do so love helping the underdog."

Fred rolled his eyes. He didn't know what Enzo's game was, but he certainly wasn't going to trust any of them. "Fine. Thanks. Come along, Snotface." He held out his hand for her to take. "It's time to go."

Lizzie's unease started to fade as she took his hand. "So, how do we get back?"

"Magic. Good lord, have you forgotten everything already?" He turned to face her, holding his arms out to his sides as though waiting for a hug. "Better hold on tight, though. I've never actually done this with another person. Wouldn't want to end up going back with only half of you. You've been in pieces enough today."

"Half?" Lizzie squeaked. "What in the hell does that even mean?"

"You know, half here, half there. It's not bloody rocket science!"

"That's not helping!" Lizzie hissed.

"Oh, this is off to a cracking start already!" Damion cackled. "I can't wait for the rest!"

"Pipe down, you reject outta _The_ _Omen_!" yelled Fred. "I've got work to do." He sneered, brushing off the front of his jacket as he turned back to Lizzie. "Look, I promise to come back for anything that _might_ fall off- I'm not saying it will. Don't you trust me?" He gave her a look that mixed both hurt and innocence.

"I don't want a promise you'll come back for my parts! I want a promise they won't fall off or get left behind in the first place!" Lizzie gestured wildly in a panic.

"So, I save your life and you get all high maintenance?"

"I am not high maintenance! I have been hit by a truck, died, put in a fake hospital, made to think I died, _again_ , and now I have to learn to be an imaginary friend or I will die, permanently! So I don't think wanting to keep all my body parts in their place is too much to ask!" Lizzie shouted at full volume, shaking with outrage. "So keep my body parts where they're supposed to be or I'll rearrange some of yours!"

Fred flicked his tongue over his lips, trying to assess whether to take this any further, but Damion's watchful gaze told him all he needed.

Scoffing, he crossed his arms and leaned in, coming face to face with Lizzie. "Is that so?" he asked, squinting.

"If I can't make good on my word today, so help me I will when I figure this madness out!"

"Well, first thing's first though, Snotface..."

Fred lunged at her, wrapping his arms tight around her waist in a bear hug. Lizzie gasped and he quickly used his magic to start their transition back to the real world. A swirl of green lights spun around them, joined by the purple orbs of Lizzie's new powers.

Lizzie screamed as she felt this odd sensation of being pulled and pushed, almost like moving in and out of a vacuum. She glared at Fred. "I hate you!" she cried, but clung to him for fear of losing her parts. Fred smiled.

"Loathe you, too," he answered. "Heads up, this next part might zing a little." Together they blinked into little orbs of green and purple, swirling like crazed fireflies before disappearing from the Other Otherworld.

At that moment, Enzo turned around from his dancing and dropped his arms to his sides. "And they didn't even say good bye. Oh well." He shrugged and resumed dancing.

* * *

Fred and Lizzie rematerialized, with all parts accounted for, back in the real world.

"Finally!" he cried, jumping back from Lizzie. "I never thought we'd get out of that Other Other Shithole with those bastards."

Lizzie opened her eyes to find herself standing in Mickey Bunce's backyard near Natalie's tree house. She shivered as a strange tickle of electricity coursed through her from re-entering the real world, scaring her. Wait. Was she all here?

Promptly, she took an inventory of her body parts. "Five fingers on each hand... Two arms, legs, feet... dress." Yep. She still wore that absurd outfit. "Fred?" She looked up at him. "I see my parts are all here. Can we do something about this?" She held up the edge of her dress.

"Yeah, we can burn it," he said, eyes widening as he spied the monstrosity. "No matter how much I stare at it, I swear it looks like a doily ate cotton candy and shit it out." He shuddered. "Alright." He snapped his fingers, creating a spark of green around Lizzie. The frilly ensemble from hell blinked away, replaced by a white shirt, gray sweatpants, and white Keds shoes. "There. Happy?"

Lizzie sighed contentedly at her new attire. "Thank you. This might seem silly, but it's nice to be in just regular clothes."

"Good. Least something's gone right today." His gaze searched the night sky, trying to sense whether the gods' ever-prying eyes still spied on them or not. "By the way, Snotface, you weren't in any real danger of losing your bits. Least not in my hands. I'm Drop Dead Fred! I _know_ what I'm doing! Plus, I've traveled with you before. Remember when we went away to that house in your imagination, before you didn't need me anymore? Same thing!" He shrugged flippantly as Lizzie looked up at him.

"And you couldn't have explained that before we left?" She shook her head, too rattled to have two disagreements at once. "Look, I know you're Drop Dead Fred, but trusting you to magic me from the Twilight Zone back to... here, is asking a lot." She looked around the yard. "I never thought I would see this place again. I never thought I'd die either. I-"

Lizzie clamped her hands over her mouth, struggling to keep her tears at bay, but Fred's grief-stricken expression became too much. She turned away, not wanting him to see her break down.

"Hey... Hey, Snotface, don't cry," he said, his voice cracking with remorse. "You're alright. It's not-"

_Shit, how do I fix this?_

He stopped talking before he lost it, everything from the day flooding him in this moment.

 _Not now. Please not now_ , he pleaded, shaking under the struggle to bury it all back inside. Fred swallowed hard, focusing instead on the future, and promising himself that no matter what happened Lizzie would stay an imaginary friend. He'd make sure of it.

Stepping closer, Fred reached with hesitation and touched her shoulder. "Snotface? It's gonna be okay. I promise." His voice hitched with the slight reveal of his own anxieties. "You... You got me. Remember that."

Lizzie barely heard Fred. She was trying to hold on to what little sanity she had left. Everything just felt so overwhelming. _How do you cope with being almost dead and not really existing?_ She swore, if she didn't know Fred to know this was possible...

Realization dawned on her. She knew someone who knew how all of this felt. Even if he never liked to talk about his past. Fred knew what it was like to not be part of the real world anymore.

Sniffling, Lizzie looked up into his eyes. "Fred, how do you handle this? I mean, besides being crazy, how do you handle being not real anymore?"

Fred exhaled under the weight of that question, his eyes widening in contemplation. Honestly, for him the answer was simple; he'd never liked being in the real world anyway. He barely remembered a time after entering adolescence when he had been sober, so the transition to imaginary friend had been a welcome one for him. Mostly, anyway.

"Truthfully? I try to think of it as I'm still real, because I do still exist whether or not most people can see me. Not like most people tried to see me when I was human anyway..." he muttered. "It helps, in most circumstances, other times it's shit because there's some things I miss about being human. All of us do." He gave her a soft smile, hoping it comforted her. "Not gonna lie, it's hard at first, but you get use to it. I remember asking Damion if he was mad when he told me I was gonna be an imaginary friend." He snorted. "Most absurd thing I'd ever heard!"

Lizzie listened carefully. It felt strange to hear Fred giving her an honest, straight forward answer, but refreshing nonetheless.

"I suppose I do exist. I mean, I am real. You can see me." Lizzie managed a half smile. "I understand about feeling invisible. I think I felt invisible my whole life. Except for when my mother was yelling at me or when Charles paid attention to me. I think that was the attraction. Someone so good-looking and successful was paying me attention, made me feel special." Lizzie suddenly pulled a face. "Of course he turned out to be a self-absorbed, liar and a cheater, but I guess you can't always win in love."

Fred could not contain his expression of disgust as she spoke of Charles, but it faded into a frown the longer he watched Lizzie. He really felt sorry for her, not to mention guilty for all those years she'd been subject to her mother making her that desperate for love. Part of him still felt if he hadn't messed up, Lizzie might have had a better life.

"Wait, you never said... What do you miss about being human?" Lizzie tilted her head as she looked at Fred, wondering what it could be.

Fred froze, staring blankly into her eyes like a lost, frightened animal. Well, he hadn't expected her to actually ask him that one. "Uh." He reached up, scratching the back of his head. "Little things, I suppose," he said, trying hard to remember. "Chocolate cakes, getting to dream, feeling the sunshine. Alcohol's a big one." He laughed. "Having another pair of jockeys is high on my list right now."

Lizzie let out a small chuckle. "I suppose that would be on my list if I was wearing the same underwear for more than twenty years." She felt some of the weight come off her shoulders. "Can't you change what you're wearing? You change, I've seen it. Do the shorts always stay?" Lizzie looked down at that region. "Are you stuck with them forever?"

Crossing his arms, Fred laughed. "I _can_ change them, but there's really no point. They can't get dirty anymore from just wearing 'em." He snapped his fingers at her. "And hey, my eyes are up here." He gestured with a smirk.

Lizzie suddenly realized where she was looking and snapped her head up to see Fred's smirking face. "I- Sorry! I was... I-" Lizzie shook her head, not even sure what to say anymore, she just gaped at Fred. This had turned awkward.

Fred snickered, quite proud of himself for making Lizzie so damn flustered, and his grin showed it.

"So, what now? How do you turn me into an imaginary friend?" she asked, wanting to change the subject, but also genuinely wanting to know. She relaxed when the mischievous grin faded from his features.

"First of all, you already _are_ an imaginary friend, so start thinking that way. You just haven't learned how to walk yet." He glanced up at the window to Natalie's bedroom. "We're gonna have to practice at night when Nat's asleep, or at school, but the first thing we gotta do is work on you feeling that magic you got bubbling around inside you. Every one of us has it in a different place." He leaned forward, closing one eye and trying to peer into her ear until Lizzie batted him away.

"Hold on. How am I supposed to learn to walk? I don't even think I can crawl at this point." Lizzie sighed, feeling hopeless and at the mention of Natalie her heart sank. "She really can't see me, right? That crazy Damion said only you can. I couldn't handle explaining things to her, plus if she told Mickey that she could see me he'd probably stick her in therapy." Lizzie groaned. "This is a mess."

"If that bastard was telling the truth, then yeah, I'm the only one who can see you. Kinda weird, though... Never had an imaginary friend. Figures I'd get a Snotface, though." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little more for her. "And you're in luck because I can sense magic in other imaginary friends. Should save us a bit of time on figuring out where yours is." He smiled wider, wiggling his fingers excitedly. "If you don't mind?"

"Whoa! But I still don't understand. What does location of magic matter? Why is magic in different places?" Lizzie shook her head. "I never thought I would have this kind of conversation. Ever."

"Pfft, then this is what you get for opening Jack-in-the-boxes, or answering phone calls," he quipped, forgetting himself. "And it doesn't matter. Enzo just _loves_ scavenger hunts, so he voted to have the magic housed in different places. Mine's in my belly button." He patted his stomach, lifting his shirt, and leaning back to stick out his belly for her to see.

Lizzie blinked, stunned into silence, but it didn't last long. "Wait a minute. What do phone calls have to do with you? Are you just pulling my leg?" She stared at Fred, trying to read him. "And of course, I should have known someone like Enzo would have something to do with magic in belly buttons." She rolled her eyes. "If mine is in my nipples, I'll kill him."

Fred's gaze immediately drifted down to the front of Lizzie's chest at that last comment with a sudden flash of heat simultaneously pulsing over his body. The memory of that flying circus incident back in the Other Otherworld didn't help. "Uh-" His voice broke. "I- I wouldn't be surprised one bit if you ended up with magic tits, actually," he said, thinking on Damion and his ridiculous obsession with outing him over something he knew with certainty he didn't feel for Lizzie.

Blinking, Fred tore himself from his strange trance. She had asked him about something else, hadn't she?

"Phone calls? Oh, yeah... You, uh, wouldn't remember the phone call, would you? Nevermind then, it's not important. We've got work to do, so would you like to ask me anything else?" He bounced nervously on his heels, plotting a way to change the subject into a safer direction. Sometimes he forgot that Lizzie didn't distract as easily as she once did.

"Now who was staring?" demanded Lizzie, unsure if she should be outraged or amused. She thought she saw Fred's cheeks turn red, but she couldn't be sure. Fred was looking at anything but her. Deciding she was wrong, Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest just to be safe, and was about to announce her indignation over the idea of magic breasts when she realized Fred was actually talking about a specific phone call. "What do you mean I wouldn't remember _the_ phone call? What're you talking about?"

"Who knows, I'm a crazy person, remember?" He pointed a finger at his head, making exaggerated circles, and crossing his eyes. "So come on! Let's go smash something! I promise it's a lot more fun when no one else can see you-"

"No!" Lizzie pointed her finger right at Fred's face. "You were talking about something like I should remember it. What phone call?" She crossed her arms again, glaring at him, until Fred's expression fell in defeat.

"UGH! I guess you're not gonna let this go. You're so much more difficult since you had to go and grow up," he lamented, not quite sure why he telling her this part of his past made him so uncomfortable. Although when you opened one door, more questions tended to follow... "Fine," he said, his voice suddenly growing soft. "You and I spoke... when I was still human."

Lizzie froze. Her brain processed the words, but she didn't understand them at all. Human? When Fred was still human... She heard the phrase over and over in her mind, but it still didn't make sense. "That's impossible," she whispered, her eyes on Fred, but unable to focus. She just stared, lost.

"Not really. See, uh, remember that photo you were looking at in the kitchen? The one of me behind your wanker uncle?"

"Photo?" Lizzie tried to think back. She had gone to her mother's and helped with her uncle's things.

For a brief moment Lizzie wondered how her mother was handling her accident and almost asked Fred, but realized she didn't want to know the answer. She was afraid she already did.

"Yeah, he and I had a run in a bit before that moment." Fred continued. "Bastard wouldn't let me use the phone. Well he left in an awful hurry, can't imagine why." He shrugged. "And when I got in the booth, your mother was on the other end of the phone in all her unholy glory. She kept shouting at me, and then at you. It was downright heinous, so I called her a megabitch, and she hung up like a coward."

Fred paused, smiling almost sadly at the next memory, a distant look in his eyes. "But guess who'd snuck on the line? You wanted to run away with me for bein' so nice to you. You latched on so quick. Guess I made an impression because you're the reason I was sent to you. Supposedly you picked me." He looked down at his feet, unsure of what else to do with himself. "I mean, I guess you wouldn't remember. You were six, but see, it's your fault," he muttered.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Lizzie was completely stunned. She had actually spoken to Fred. She stared at him in amazement, mouth agape.

"It was you! You were on the other end of the phone!" Elation pulsed through her. "I can't believe it! You were my imaginary friend before you were my imaginary friend!" She laughed, so close to tears now. "You spoke to my mother like no one else and you made me feel like I wasn't stupid or terrible. I imagined you after that. I would pretend we did run away together and we had great adventures." Lizzie wiped her eyes. "You saved me, Fred. For that short while before you actually came, I wasn't alone."

Fred started to choke up as well and it both surprised and terrified him. He quickly tried to shake it off before she noticed, or before he threw up. This was uncharted territory because he had taught himself to never feel anything. Emotions kept you weak and left you empty. No, it was better to feel nothing and if those bloody annoying feelings tried to take over then he would just drink them into oblivion or take something to help him feel numb. At least, that was what he had done when he had been alive. After becoming an imaginary friend he just threw himself into being off his nut and doing whatever he wanted to help his charges.

Thinking back, nothing and no one in his old life had ever stuck around long enough for him get sentimental over, even as an imaginary friend he moved on pretty quickly to the next charge, avoiding any second thoughts or memories. Lizzie was the exception. He hadn't wanted to leave her and it seemed she kept coming back to him. Out of everything she remained the only constant.

He sighed. He still couldn't believe that anyone had wanted someone like him around, let alone the sweet, little girl Lizzie had been. Or even the adult she had become. He smiled softly, realizing that Lizzie had come back to stay, and he could keep it that way. It felt good to have her back, and he hadn't anticipated how happy hearing about their first conversation would make her. She deserved some happiness after today's events, and he suddenly felt more inclined to reveal at least a little more about his past. It seemed a small way to make amends for the shit those bastard gods had put her through.

"You were my first friend, too," he admitted. "And my first charge."

Lizzie laughed, pleasantly surprised to see Fred affected by her revelation as well. To hear that she was his first friend deeply touched her. She wiped her eyes and smiled widely.

"Drop Dead Fred, under that crazy, angry exterior is a total softy." Lizzie stepped forward and hugged him around his waist, clinging tightly. "Thank you for being my friend."

Fred tensed in her embrace. "Soft?" he chirped, leaning away enough to look at her. "I'm not soft! Why I'm the hardest man you'll ever see. I'm stiffer than whiskey, your magic nipples, and the hair on your mother's upper lip." He squirmed and wriggled free of her arms.

 _Damion_ _better not've seen that hug. That's all I need_ , he thought as he looked about the yard. _He'd read into it. She's my first charge, of course she's special! I don't have feelings!_

"And keep your girly ideals to yourself, or next time I'll have to be sick all over you," he shouted, folding his arms with indignance. "But, you're welcome, I guess..." he added, "...so thanks for answering the phone. You've been a good friend, too. For a Snotface." Fred kicked at the grass. "Hey!" His blue eyes suddenly sparkled with the shift of his mood. "Tell you what, since you've had such an awful day, and I'm _still_ not a softy, by the way, I'll let you ask me three more things. One about me, and two about anything else you wish to know."

Lizzie inwardly sighed. Same old Fred. She wasn't surprised that his reaction became so volatile, especially where feelings were concerned, and yet she started to feel they hid something more. He professed that she was a good friend to him, which pleased her, but at the same time she still felt disappointed that he hadn't given her more. As a child she had assumed Fred as just one of those people who didn't really express emotions, almost like her mother, but Fred was different.

While her mother used manipulation and seemed incapable to express genuine love, Fred showed, at times, that he did care. Yes, he liked to rant and rave about things being 'girly' or 'disgusting,' but when she had needed him, he had always been there to support and encourage her. He had helped her stand up to Charles and her mother.

Lizzie thought it over. Fred was sympathetic, but he never divulged things about himself, and certainly didn't like to express emotion. She pondered his offer. From Fred, it was generous. An actual offer to give her information about himself. She looked at him, trying not to fidget, and suddenly smiled.

"I propose a counteroffer. Let me ask you three questions about whatever I want, including you." Her eyebrows rose expectantly, as she wondered how he would react.

"About me?" He visibly flinched in surprise. Lizzie had never asked him anything about himself before today. Well, maybe once or twice when he'd first shown up, but he'd quickly nipped that curiosity. Three questions about anything? That could get dangerous. Sure, he did want to share, but was it so wrong that he controlled the areas they delved into? Her proposal left him feeling vulnerable, and he hated it. There had to be a way he could still get around this 'anything' nonsense and still make her happy. As Drop Dead Fred he was her friend and hero; if he became just 'Fred,' or _worse_ , well who knew what he'd be to her. He frowned, suddenly feeling very human again by the situation. It was downright disgusting.

 _I knew it. I always knew sharing was a bad idea_.

However, the hopeful, curious expression on Lizzie's face left him conflicted and curious about what she wanted to hear.

Stepping closer, Fred pensively met her gaze. Maybe he'd just test the waters. "What's there you'd want to know about me now? You never asked before."

Lizzie had been prepared for a refusal, not a question. Now, she didn't know how to respond and she had a feeling 'because' wouldn't cut it.

"Well..." she started, trying to think of a sufficient response. "I didn't need to know when I was a child. You were just Drop Dead Fred. You made life fun and exciting, and you were my friend." Lizzie sighed deeply, picking at the hem of her shirt as she tried to focus her thoughts.

"Now, with all these new revelations I realize I don't know you." Lizzie frowned, her frustration evident. "I don't mean I don't know you." She clenched her fists. "I don't know what I want to say!" She turned around and started pacing. "I know you're my friend, and now I know you lived in the sixties." She spun on her heels, facing him. "I know we spoke on the phone and that you were kind to me." At the thought, her features softened. "You were my first friend." She looked down.

"It's just that now I realize what a mystery you are to me." Her head lifted again and she stared into his eyes. "I want to know what you wanted to do before..." She stopped, swallowing before she made the effort to continue. "Before you became an imaginary friend. I want to know if your childhood sucked too and if that's why you understand me." She bit her lip and finally pleaded, "I want to know if you think I can do this."

For a long moment, Fred stayed silent and he pursed his lips together in contemplation. Two of those questions he could certainly work with, the other would take some special finagling on his end. "I'll answer all three," he said at last, "but it's gonna cost ya. You have to make me a promise." Crossing his arms over his chest, he smiled and Lizzie blinked in surprise.

"Okay..." she answered. Fred seemed to surprise her in ways he hadn't before. "What do I have to promise?"

"You gotta let me liven up the disaster funeral your mother's got in the works for ya." He rubbed his palms together with vigor.

Lizzie stared. "What exactly are you planning? I'm not agreeing to anything until I know you aren't going to push her into the grave and throw dirt over her." She smothered her smile, trying to appear stern.

"Aw, come on, Snotface!" He stomped his foot. "You'll ruin all the fun if you know, or slap stupid rules like that on me. Which, by the way, _great_ idea with the dirt." His grin faded. "Although... is your mother even allowed on holy ground? Would she just burn in a blaze of demon bitch and pencil skirts? Hmm." He scratched his chin. "Not sure how I'm gonna top that now."

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but inside she was glad to see Fred in true form.

"Yes, I'm a terrible person for not wanting to ruin a funeral. MY funeral, I might add." She shook her head. "This is still so weird." She looked at Fred. "I know you want to get back at my mother, but I'm not sure causing chaos at a funeral's the best way to do it." Lizzie turned somber for a minute. "It won't be just her who's there. It'll be Mickey and Natalie and Janie." She frowned, remembering the people she cared about who she wouldn't ever see again.

"Why don't you pick a different place for your vendetta? You can go after her at the salon or her aerobics class." Lizzie smiled winningly, hoping Fred would agree.

Fred scowled. _If you knew what I heard her say about you, you'd be singing a different tune_ , he thought. His anger toward Polly returned. "Why can't I? Why, because it wouldn't be the same if I did it anywhere else. Ironic justice, and all that. Or whatever they call it." He rolled his eyes. "You gotta start thinking like an imaginary friend, Snotface. We're not so concerned with hoity-toity funeral etiquette. We do what's fun, what's best for our charges, and what gets the most attention to get the job done. Sense gets in the way of all that. So if I want to light a coffin on fire, I'll do it!" He flicked her on the forehead, leaning in front of her face. "So stop being Miss Grownup Funeral Fascist and unbunch those panties!" He contorted his face and finished by grotesquely sticking out his tongue.

Lizzie grimaced. This was going to be harder than she thought. She didn't really want to crash her own funeral. It seemed wrong on so many levels. She thought over what it had been like as a child. Doing things she wasn't supposed to had been great, but then the fallout came, and the punishment. Her punishment; never her imaginary friend's punishment. Now that Fred belonged to Natalie, she'd get the blame, wouldn't she? She'd be punished for something she didn't really do. This imaginary friend thing didn't seem so simple. Was there even a balance?

"So I have to cause chaos in my wake because it's fun? Because I get a kick out of it and my charge will too? Sure! Let's burn the whole damn cemetery down because I don't have to live with the consequences! Let's just do whatever the hell we want because we won't be the ones getting yelled at! Let's wreck my funeral because it's fun! Oh, wait! I can't because I can't even do anything! I'm a useless imaginary friend who can't even change her appearance." Lizzie's chest was heaving. She stared at Fred, surprised by her own outburst. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "If I fail I'll really be dead and it won't matter."

Fred paled. He'd gone too far, hadn't he? Guilt flooded him and so did fear of losing her for good. His fists clenched. He didn't want to think about it anymore. In fact, he preferred this accursed day would just piss itself out of existence so they could both wake up tomorrow without any worries of doom and gloom.

Hesitating, Fred reached out and wrapped his arms around Lizzie's waist. "I'm... sorry, 'Lizabeth," he whispered, the words faltering on his tongue. He sighed. "Forget the promise. Just... ask me again?"

Lizzie froze. It seemed so rare to be held like this, and it felt so comforting that she just wanted the moment to last. Slowly, she relaxed and leaned into Fred. Lizzie felt calm and didn't want to ruin this peace with questions.

Carefully, she extracted her arms and wrapped them around Fred's neck, holding on in a gentle bear hug. "Fred," she said softly. "Isn't there a way to freeze time and just stay this way? No crazy gods, no imaginary friend classes, no funerals, just us and whatever we imagine?" Lizzie was afraid she knew the answer, but she could at least pretend otherwise.

Fred's eyes closed, his head resting atop hers, and for the briefest of moments he, too relaxed, forgetting his discomfort with letting down his guard. She felt so small and warm in his arms and it made him want to protect her even more from Damion and his fools. But, with Lizzie's question, his heartbeat quickened, suddenly making him very aware of everything once again.

"If... If there was I would've used it dozens of times already," he said. "You're not getting sent away, Lizzie. I know everything about you, and you've got what it takes. You just gotta believe in you like I believe in you," he said gently with his cheek pressed against her soft hair. The urge to pull away flared, the closeness odd for him, but he stayed, knowing she needed him.

Lizzie smiled. "What moment would you want to stay in? Burglarizing the house? Making mud pies?" She laughed, thinking on her favorite, but fleeting memories from childhood. "I don't know what I would choose." Lizzie nearly said 'this moment,' but feared ruining it by pointing it out. It was just nice to feel protected and cared for. Lizzie didn't think she had ever really received that in her life. Her father had tried before he left, but it wasn't much. Janie and Mickey had been good to her, but no one ever stood up for her like Fred. He was her best friend and protector, and he believed in her. Somehow she needed to believe too.

Fred chuckled. "Those were great times. I'd take any of those. Plus the time we convinced your grandmother the china had a poltergeist."

Lizzie laughed. "Poor grandma."

Absently he played with the fabric on the hem of her shirt, his other hand upon her waist. "I suppose I'd also freeze the moment before you and I got separated. Both of them." He squeezed her tighter, and she returned it.

"I was so heartbroken when Mother locked you away in that Jack-in-the-box. I wrote you every day, but she kept finding my letters and throwing them in the trash. I finally snuck one and hid it so she wouldn't find it." Lizzie sighed. "I was so mad and hurt at her for doing that to you, to me. I think deep down I still haven't forgiven her. I don't know if I can. I feel like she doesn't deserve it."

Lizzie shook her head. "I'm just glad I got you back and you helped me. I didn't know how much I still needed you." She squeezed him tighter. "I guess I still need you since I can't seem to stay out of trouble." She laughed. "It's stupid, but I can't live without you." Laughing harder, she added, "It's the absolute truth."

"There, you see? Even more proof you belong here. You just needed ol' Fred to raise hell and spit in the right faces. The day I dropped dead turned out to be the luckiest day for you, didn't it?" He laughed, pinching her sides, tickling her.

Lizzie laughed, and tried to dodge his attack. "No!" She squealed, but he refused to give up. "I take it back! I don't need you!" She was crying with laughter now. "You fight dirty!" She released her hold on his neck and tried to escape. "Stop! I swear I'll sneeze right now!"

Snorting, Fred yanked her tight against himself so she couldn't squirm away. "Go ahead!" he taunted, stopping his assault. "I'll just wipe the bogeys all over you!"

"You're awful!" Lizzie panted, trying to recover her breath. "I can't believe you'd fight so dirty!" Catching herself, she laughed. "Okay, I know you would, but that's beside the point." Lizzie met Fred's gaze. "I'll get you back. Just wait."

"Go ahead." He sniggered. "I've got eyes in the back of my head! You'll never get the drop on me. I've got dirtier skills than you any day," he taunted, his nose wrinkling as he smiled.

"Go ahead. Underestimate me. We'll see who's smug and who's left crying in the mud." She grinned, feeling like they were back in sync. Lizzie and Fred, partners in crime.

"Crying in the mud?" he exclaimed, bringing his face closer to hers. "I don't think so. You'll see me making mud pies outta your mud, then throwing them back in your smug face."

Lizzie blew a loud raspberry. "Please, I think we're past mud pies. This isn't six-year-old Lizzie you're dealing with. I happen to be an imaginary friend. The playing field has evened." She made a face. "Well, nearly even," she said, waving that thought away.

Grimacing, Fred wiped the spittle from his eyes, but grinned as she finally called herself an imaginary friend. He found relief and a bit of pride in hearing those words coming from her. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard for her to adjust after all.

"Before we get into more challenges and my imaginary friend education I have some questions to ask." Her hand went to her chin, and she scrunched her face as she looked closely at Fred. "Why do you-"

Lizzie closed her mouth with a snap. Her initial question was perhaps too loaded, pushing the bounds, and she didn't want any more angst today. She'd save it for later. Much later. So, what else did she want to know about Fred?

"What were you like as a child?" she asked.

Fred took a deep breath and a step back. "Well..." He paused, running his hand through his hair. "I was sad. Alone a lot. I had a big imagination and an even bigger mouth." His gaze lowered to the grass. It felt so strange talking about this, and so long ago it almost felt like it wasn't his own past anymore, but the feelings told him otherwise.

"Can't say I was very liked by the other children," he said. "I was also a lot more like you were. Timid. I got picked on a bunch, so I learned to keep to myself."

Lizzie listened to Fred's response in silence, paying close attention to every word. His revelation broke her heart, but it also brought her a small bit of comfort because they were the same. Two lost children who had found each other. They had a strong connection; now it was even stronger.

"Thank you. I'm sorry your childhood sucked as much as mine." Lizzie offered him a half-smile. "I guess birds of a feather and all that other garbage." She laughed, making him smirk. "So, on to question two... I suppose I would like to know what you were doing in 1969."

"Still breathing," he replied, a knot in the pit of his stomach as she hit the question he preferred to avoid. Fred shot her a hopeful grin, but the look on her face told him she wasn't in the mood for another joke. He sighed. Lizzie was right; she really didn't know him and he supposed he did owe her more information about himself. Especially since the chance of her not being around for much longer was very real if he cocked this up... In fact, he may only have this one chance to come clean, and he didn't have to tell her every last detail.

"I was a salesman, of sorts," he said, choosing his words very carefully. "I worked for a friend and his girl. We came to the states together to make a bit of a profit." Fred crossed his arms, trying his best to hide the agitation he felt over remembering Roland. He began to pace wildly before Lizzie.

"Which I was very good at doing, by the way," he added. "Until we had a bit of a disagreement in the end." Fred shook as though he'd just received a shiver and bounced on his heels, shifting quickly to flash a smile at Lizzie. "And then I met you. The end."

Lizzie stared at Fred skeptically. "You were a salesman..." She frowned. "Really? You did customer service? With actual people?" She glared at Fred. "Are you bullshitting me?"

"Of course not! I can be charming, you know." He rolled his eyes, grinned, and hopped into a shrugging pose that could only become more ostentatious by a spotlight's shine on him.

Lizzie was not amused. Fred wasn't going to get away with his usual antics. Not today. She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. She was going to get her answers.

"Look, if you don't want to tell me things, then say so, don't give me the run around or treat me like an idiot." Lizzie took a deep breath. "I understand you have things you might not want to talk about, but I hope you'll try to be honest with me."

Fred's pose deflated, and for a moment he looked at her, trying to decide if he could trust her with his past. Lizzie had led such a clean and ultra-sheltered life, so he had no idea what she'd think of him if she knew the truth. He noticed her posture relax, and slowly she reached out for him until her hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Fred, I will never think less of you. Ever," she whispered.

His eyes closed. He just couldn't bring himself to say it while looking at Lizzie. "Fine, I sold drugs," he said quickly, wincing when silence followed, but he forced himself to peek at her. She just stood there with surprise in her eyes.

 _That's it_? she thought. True, that was something that most people wouldn't be proud of, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. She shook her head. "Wow, I completely think less of you now," she said, keeping her expression blank and waiting for his reaction.

"What?!" Fred jumped back, a glare covering his flash of hurt. "Oh thanks. Some friend you are. Oh, Fred!" he said, pitching his voice higher to mimic Lizzie, "I promise I won't care. Tell me!" He blew a loud raspberry at her, and said in his own voice, "Gee, thanks SO much! I hate you." He crossed his arms, sulking like a child.

Lizzie grinned when Fred started speaking in that high-pitched voice, but after his last declaration she burst out laughing. Fred's mouth dropped and she couldn't stop herself to tell him she hadn't meant it.

"Hey! Stop it, ya hyena!" he shouted. His heart pounded. What the fuck was so damn funny about-

Fred's eye only got bigger. Had she just _tricked_ him? "Hey. Wait a minute... You didn't? Oi! Stop it! You don't get to laugh at me. Oh, ha ha ha! I _knew_ you were joking the whole time!"

Lizzie only laughed harder. She hadn't expected Fred to get so taken in by her joke, and his reaction when he figured it out was even funnier. She kept trying to respond, but inevitably dissolved into more and more laughter. Tears leaked from her eyes and she could hardly breathe. It took all she had to finally get herself back under control.

"Are you done?" he snipped. Lizzie looked over at a slightly outraged Fred.

"I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up." She tried to suppress the aftershock giggles that threatened to escape. "And you didn't know I was joking!"

Fred clenched his jaw. "I did so. You're such a snotface."

Lizzie grinned. Yes, he was less than amused with her, but it delighted her to no end. "Okay, Fred. Whatever you say." Her grin remained, but she didn't want to make him truly mad at her. "So, is that your deep, dark secret? You sold drugs?"

"One of 'em. Are you gonna piss yourself laughing if I tell you anything else?" He shot her a look. "You know I'm not changing your clothes again if you soil yourself." Secretly, though, he was almost impressed with her sneakiness. Almost.

Lizzie hid her grin. It wouldn't make him happy with her if she kept smiling about her joke. "I won't." His comment brought a thought to her mind. "Wait, is that possible? Do we need to eat and go, ya know, to the bathroom anymore?"

Fred smiled mischievously. "Why don't we wait and let you find out."

It was Lizzie's turn to shoot him a look. "If I do then I'm wiping my dirty underwear on you." She rolled her eyes, not willing to give Fred the satisfaction of seeing her sweat about it. She decided to get back to her questions. "So, is there anything else you did in the sixties that you don't want me to know about?"

"Wipe your dirty...? Well, obviously I've rubbed off on you quite a lot." He chortled with some pride. "But that's disgusting," he said with an impressed grin. His apprehension nagged at him from the back corners of his mind.

_I hate these questions._

"Awfully interested in my secrets," he said. "You and Damion looking to write a book?"

Lizzie laughed at his response, but the humor vanished when he mentioned the chief madman from the Other Otherworld. "Don't mention me and him in the same sentence." Her thoughts snapped to that awful coffin trick he had pulled, making her simultaneously outraged and traumatized all over again. Lizzie trembled at the memory and turned away so she wouldn't have to look at Fred as she fought to calm down. The reaction left Fred befuddled.

Was she joking again? Or was she really upset? He didn't want to watch another raucous display at his expense, and Fred suddenly realized it was a bit harder to read Lizzie when he didn't have the advantage of being her imaginary friend.

_Things were so much easier when I had that emotional connection. Wait a second... If she's now technically my imaginary friend, does that mean she can feel me? Oh, fuck that._

The question left him feeling very exposed and Fred watched her with worry. No. No, she probably couldn't sense him at this point. He instantly relaxed.

 _Looks like I'm safe, for now_.

"So, Snotface," he said, hoping to change the subject. "You had that photo of me. What are your guesses about my secrets?"

Lizzie shrugged. She suddenly felt tired, like she had aged ten years in a matter of days. In a way, maybe she had. Today had certainly taken a toll on her, both mentally and emotionally. The only thing unchanged was her physical self. Thinking it over, Lizzie realized that if she succeeded and became an actual imaginary friend she wouldn't age anymore. She didn't know how to feel about that.

"I can't really remember the photo. It seems like forever ago since I looked at it." She tried to picture it, but all she could really remember was her uncle and Fred. Turning to face him, she said, "I don't know. What were you doing? How did you end up hijacking my uncle's phone call?"

"That..." He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to think, and rocked from heel to toe several times. "You know, I don't really know. I was tripping on acid at the time."

Lizzie's brows shot up at this revelation. "Acid?" She didn't know how to process that. "You were a dealer _and_ a user?" Surprise mixed with sadness and disappointment like a whirlpool inside her.

"Aha! There it is!" he said, pointing at her face. That was the look he'd been afraid of. "See there? I'm different now, aren't I?" His voice dropped lower. "I knew this was a bad idea."

Lizzie immediately felt terrible. "No! I don't think less of you! Yes, it's disappointing, if I'm honest, but I don't think you're some kind of terrible person." She stepped forward and gripped his arms, causing his eyes to lock with hers. "Fred, you made some bad choices. I can't hate you for it and I'm not going to think less of you for it, either." She made sure to keep her gaze with his so he'd see how much she meant it. "Thank you for being honest with me."

At first, Fred experienced only confusion, but felt a warm flutter grow inside him. Did she really mean that? Was this what it felt like to be accepted? Astonished, he stared at Lizzie in pleasant surprise and smiled. "Consider yourself lucky, then. None of the other imaginary friends got to know my story, or at least that much of it. Thanks for not changing your opinion of me, Snotface." He stared a moment more, trying to understand Lizzie's care for him and noticed something new. Had her eyes always been so brown?

Sighing, Lizzie welcomed the relief that pushed all the other emotions aside, glad she hadn't hurt him. She had been so worried, and Fred had done so much for her already. Hurting him would be a poor way to repay him.

Suddenly Fred shook his head and shrugged out of her grasp. "So, does that satisfy your little head for now, or is there something else you're dying to know before we begin figuring out where that magic is?" He waggled his finger at her body.

Lizzie frowned when he stepped away. Had she offended him? Worry rose up in her gut. Maybe all her prying had upset him.

"No, I don't have any more questions," she spoke automatically, willing to drop it if Fred wasn't wanting to reveal any more of his past. Her gaze drifted toward the house. She really wasn't looking forward to going inside. At the moment she wanted to be anywhere else but here. "Now what?"

"You hold still," he said, stepping to stand in front of her. Fred held up his hands, vigorously rubbing them together before flipping his palms around to face her. "Just gonna try to find where Enzo put that magic. This might tickle."

Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

Slowly, Fred moved his hands just over her body, no more than an inch away, beginning at her head and moving down. He tried sensing the magic and green sparks emanated off his fingers as he slipped along. Moving lower, he reached her toes and started feeling his way back up until finally a soft purple spark lit at Lizzie's left knee.

"Aha! I got it!" he shouted, grinning up at her. "It's in your knee. I'm sorry, Snotface, you don't get magic tits, after all. I'm a bit disappointed for you."

Upon hearing him say the word 'knee,' Lizzie relaxed, opening her eyes to look closely at Fred to see if he was joking with her. He looked completely serious, but also pleased. "My knee?" she asked, still uncertain about Fred's announcement. "Is that really where it is?"

"Yep, see here." He knelt down and wiggled his fingers over the location. The same purple sparks emerged. Lizzie's eyes widened. Reaching up, he took her hand and pulled her lower to feel for herself. Fred used his own magic again to coax hers out of its hiding spot. "Pay attention to how it feels," he said, pressing her hand to her knee.

The lights sparkling from it glowed brighter and Lizzie tried to feel what Fred was talking about, but since she had no experience with magic, she wasn't sure what she should be doing. She watched the lights sparkling around her knee and tried to focus her thoughts on it. Her knee felt warm, and gradually the heat spread to her fingers.

Gasping, she yanked her hand away. "What was that?"

Fred smiled up at her, a twinkle in his eyes. "Your magic, of course. Try to keep up. It's not a snake!"

Lizzie stuck her tongue out at Fred. "Well, how am I supposed to know? I'm new to this and for all I know it was a really bad sunburn!" Reaching down, she touched her knee again and tried to replicate whatever she had done earlier. The warmth returned, but this time she kept her hand in place, letting the heat move up and into her arm and finally her whole body. She scrunched her face as she tried to maintain this feeling.

"Now what?" It came out as a whisper, as she tried to concentrate on her magical link.

"Try to do this," he said, standing and holding out his hand. Green light surrounded his fingers and tiny orbs floated off the tips. "Just imagine it flowing out of you and then hold it. You can actually control it when it's not physically in you. Sort of like an extension, like you're in two places at once, if you will." He looked at her with a hopeful gaze, trying to push Damion's nagging warnings out of his mind.

With her left hand still on her knee, Lizzie looked at her right hand and tried to picture the purple sparks flowing out of her fingers.

Nothing changed.

Lizzie sighed in frustration, but she focused harder, willing the magic to move. The warmth intensified, but still nothing else happened.

"Come on, Lizzie," she said to herself, not caring that Fred could hear; she had to do this. Her life literally depended on it.

She stared hard at her fingers, picturing the purple sparks flowing out from her hand. "Come on you stupid sparks! Come out of my fingers!" Her hand turned warmer and Lizzie grimaced, focusing harder. It began to tingle next and she wanted to ask Fred about it, but she didn't want to break her concentration. The sensation travelled from her hand, up her arm, and into her chest. It felt strange and uncomfortable, but she pushed it aside, maintaining her focus. She had never fixated on anything so intensely in her life, but she felt her will begin to weaken.

"Stay strong. You can do it," she ordered herself. Lizzie grit her teeth, grunting as she gave one last mental push to make the magic move.

* * *

In the Other Otherworld, Enzo was alone. Axel and Bastion had challenged each other to a duel and gone off in separate directions to prepare. Favian was most likely reading, and Cale was probably antagonizing one of them. Enzo wasn't sure where Damion was, but as long as they weren't in the same room it was a good thing.

Enzo pulled on his magical monocle goggles and looked at Lizzie and Fred. He smiled. Lizzie was doing better than expected, and Fred seemed to be a decent teacher.

"I think it's nearly time to up the stakes, poppets," Enzo murmured.


	9. Chapter Eight: Imaginary Friends 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:
> 
> zombierose3: DirtyAim is amazing and precious for writing this chapter with me and everyone needs to know it.
> 
> DirtyAim: See kids, this is what happens when you leave really nice reviews! The author lets you write the fic with them!
> 
> Disclaimers: We don't own Drop Dead Fred, Star Wars, the Force, and are poor. There is no money in our pockets.

* * *

 

**Chapter Eight**

Imaginary Friends 101

(by zombierose3 & DirtyAim)

* * *

 

 _Come on, Snotface. Just let it out_. Fred's stare could have tunneled into Lizzie's fingers if possible in wait for her to figure out how to release her magic. He had never been a patient man, and though he remembered the first activation took a bit, as the powers needed a charge to get going, he did not think he could stand to wait much longer.

_Come on, you've gotta do this for me..._

As much as he wanted to help again, he dared not move, afraid to break her concentration. She had to do this on her own, then they could show those smarmy Other Otherworld disasters she was worth everything he'd promised, but Fred frowned. She was taking an awfully long time, and from what he felt off Lizzie her magic seemed ready to go. _Something's holding her back..._

Meanwhile, Lizzie was pretty sure she was sweating as an enormous amount of pressure kept building within her with nowhere to go. "Fred? I- I can't get it to come out. It's stuck!" She didn't dare look over at her best friend for worry of breaking her concentration, but she also feared if she didn't relieve the pressure soon that her hand might blow off. Which it probably could now that she was an imaginary friend.

 _Damn it. Just let it out, Lizzie! Come on..._ she begged of herself.

"Breathe, Snotface. You're not trying to poo."

The absurdity of his statement conjured up such a horrible mental image for Lizzie that the worst possible thing happened.

She laughed.

An eruption of snorts and giggles, interspersed with the image of herself looking that ridiculous fed her hysteria. The much needed relief in tension finally opened up the pathway for her magic to release from her body, spurting out in twinkling fits.

Fred grinned. _I knew that would get her to relax_ , he thought and soon found himself laughing with her, most of it an expulsion of his own relief. "That's it! See, I told you, you could do it. Just had to get that head of yours to switch off long enough." He strutted proudly, dotting it with a hop, and clapping at Lizzie's success.

The last gush of magic left her hand with Lizzie watching in amazement. She'd done it... SHE HAD DONE IT! Excitement and relief both overwhelmed her and she clasped her arms around Fred's neck, hugging him for all she was worth. "I did it! I really did it!" she cried, happily. Fred's arms wrapped around her tight and he lifted her up off the ground.

"I told you. You're a real imaginary friend, after all." He laughed, setting her down, and trying to contain the swell of emotion within him. She was really going to do this. Now if he could just keep his senses about him long enough to make sure. For once maybe he wouldn't muck things up.

Lizzie squeezed him tighter, which also happened to bury her face in his neck. "Thank you! I couldn't have done this without your help." She breathed him in deeply and lifted her head to give him the happiest grin she had ever felt. "I owe you so much. Just- Thank you!" she said, emotionally. Unable to help herself, even though she knew that Fred didn't like 'girly' displays of affection, she darted in and placed a heartfelt kiss next to his mouth.

The strangest giggle escaped Fred, followed by a snort. His body reacted like he'd been tased and he jerked back. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to stand as tall as he could. That had felt weird. Really weird. Unexpectedly WEIRD. His whole body warmed and he wanted to crawl away from the sensation. "I- Well, you're welcome, Snotface," he said, sporting his famous mischievous sneer that pulled up his nose and bore his teeth. "I'm Fred! It's what I do." He boastfully nodded at her. "Now we can start to have some real _fun_."

Unwrapping herself from Fred, Lizzie bounced back on her toes, brimming with excitement over becoming an imaginary friend for the first time. "Great! What did you have in mind?"

Fred quickly forgot his discomfort and leaned back in at Lizzie. "Hide-and-seek," he announced, grinning.

Lizzie's smile mirrored his own. "And you loooooove hide-and-seek!"

"Yep," he said, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. "But this time it's gonna be a lot more fun, and teach you to tap into some more of those new magic tricks of yours. Just don't leave me all night in the garden shed."

She considered it. "Weeelll..."

"Well, what?" He huffed.

"Maybe I can promise, since you did help me and all..."

Scoffing, Fred tossed his head back. "Oh, how generous of you." He stuck out his tongue before curling his lips into a crooked smile. "This game's gonna be a little different. Now that you know what magic feels like, let's see if you can find it in other places. Like me." He waved his hand in the air and in a blink, he vanished to his chosen hiding place.

Laughter rang out in the empty yard, the nostalgic excitement of playing Fred's favorite game making Lizzie giddy, but how to find him? In the past Fred had always loved hiding in the oddest places, which had often caused her searches to last forever. Though once he had hidden in the peppershaker, mistaking it for salt, and the resulting sneezes had led her to him much quicker than normal. She still remembered how it took ages for him to stop sneezing and subsequently bouncing off the walls.

But now Lizzie had magic of her own... so how did she use it to track Fred? He wanted to teach her how to feel her own power, so maybe she just had to try and sense his? Kinda like finding the thing that doesn't belong, maybe?

Deciding this was the best way to go, Lizzie headed inside, carefully trying to _sense_ where Fred might be hiding. She began with the living room and after no luck, made a beeline for the stairs, continuing up until she reached the attic. Fred always had a weird thing for attics so she wanted to cross it off of her list quickly, but all she sensed was an itchy nose.

_Guess you're not gonna make this easy on me._

Undeterred, she headed for Natalie's bedroom and found a normal little girl's room decked out with cartoon characters and toys everywhere. "My mother should take tips," she lamented. "Natalie doesn't know how lucky she is." On the bedside dresser, Lizzie noticed a framed photo of Natalie with her mother. A small ache lanced her heart. Lizzie hoped that someday soon her mom would come around and be a bigger part of her daughter's life. Every child needed their mother, and their father, even if they weren't together.

Sighing, Lizzie got back to business before Fred got bored and popped out at her with penis-shaped balloon animals, or something. She made quick work of checking every nook and cranny, even the electrical outlets, to see if she felt any difference, but still found nothing. "Come on. Where are you?" she whispered. She tried the spare bedroom, both bathrooms, the den, and even the hall closets. By the time she stood outside Mickey's bedroom she had lost her newfound confidence and gained an ardent frustration with herself.

Was he really hiding that well, or was she that horrible at being able to sense him? Lizzie debated on whether or not to search Mickey's room. Even though they had been dating she had never seen it, and the idea of intruding made her feel odd. In her mind, Fred's disgusted voice pretending to be sick all over the floor decided it for her and she gave the room a pass. The idea of possibly seeing something she shouldn't in there was enough to keep her out anyways. That left just one more room.

The kitchen. He _had_ to be in the kitchen because she was sure that she hadn't sensed him anywhere else.

Anticipation spiking, she hurried to it, eager to open the cupboards like when she was a little girl, but stopped herself.

_No, I have to find him the right way..._

Determined, Lizzie closed her eyes and concentrated. She immediately felt ridiculous with herself, but shrugged it off. She needed to be able to find his magic and with her eyes open she would be too tempted to just check the hiding places physically.

_Come on, Lizzie... Use the Force, or something!_

Slowly, she tuned out all of the noises coming from outside and focused on the sound of her breathing. As that became all she heard, she shut it out as well, locking herself into her own silent solitude. Inside the darkness, she tried to send out her own sense of awareness, like searching for a light in the dark. A faint glow finally appeared in her mind, the tiny pulse of green beating faintly some feet in front of her, and the longer she concentrated on it the clearer it became.

She had him!

Elated, Lizzie sprung to catch Fred, only to ram right into the Bunce's dinner table.

"Oof!"

Grimacing, Lizzie opened her eyes and looked around sheepishly. _Really graceful, Lizzie._ She hoped no one had seen that, but she suddenly noticed that the kitchen sink was about the right distance from where the glow of magic had come from. Concentrating on it, she could see an odd sort of shimmer dancing around the edges and her grin returned as an idea for revenge popped into her mind.

_Gotcha this time, Fred._

Tiptoeing over to the sink, Lizzie bent in preparation, her hand on the cupboard door. She would get him this time and he would never expect it because she had always lost at hide-and-seek. Well now she had the upper hand. She'd fling open the door and yell right in Fred's face, scaring him for once.

However, a flash of green turned the knobs of the sink. Water sprayed from the faucet in an unnatural deluge of ice cold surprise. Lizzie shrieked, water hitting her full in the face and moving down the front of her body as though it had eyes. Below, the cupboard doors kicked open and Fred tumbled to the floor, splayed out in a fit of laughter. The water stopped, except for the tears in Fred's eyes as he pointed up at her.

"Look- Look at you! I got you! Oh, I got you!" He writhed, arms wrapped around himself as he cackled.

Dripping like a drowned cat, Lizzie could only stare in shock as Fred howled like a madman on the kitchen floor. _Oh, he's going to pay for this!_ A violent shiver passed over her entire body and Lizzie felt her nipples harden painfully against the fabric of her t-shirt. Dawning horror bloomed across her face as she realized that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her now see-through shirt.

Panicked eyes locked on Fred. "Get me dry clothes now!" she demanded.

Fred snickered. "Why?"

"I need a bra!" she hissed.

Fred rolled his eyes, but in the midst of opening his mouth with yet another snarky remark, he noticed the problem. "Oi! When did you start wearing boulder holders?" He sprung to his feet, pointing at her chest.

Lizzie glared at him impatiently before folding her arms over her now wet breasts. "When I grew up, Fred!" Geez, was he really _just_ realizing that she had become a woman? It was probably a good thing that he hadn't been there when she had gone through puberty. She could only imagine what having 'the talk' with him might have been like!

Fred tried very hard not stare. She hadn't so much covered the problems as lifted them, and he could see the peachy outline of each puckered nipple perfectly. The weight of each breast rested nicely atop her arms, creating a very pleasing shape. He needed to redirect the situation fast.

"Well, that's not my bloody fault! Turn those off. They're gonna put my eyes out!" He could feel them staring at him! Was the universe intent on showing him every one of Lizzie's bits this day?

Lizzie's face flamed and she hurried to properly cover herself. "Fred!"

"Well, THAT wasn't part of my plan!" Fred flailed, grabbing his hair.

"So get me some dry clothes, Fred, or I'll have to go up to Mickey's room and steal something of his!"

Fred's gaze snapped up to her face. "What? That _girl_?" Agitation flicked like electricity through him at the mention of Mickey. "Look, I know you want your swinging pillows covered up, but isn't that a bit drastic? Fartpants isn't even the same knocker size." Fred tapped his thigh. He couldn't get his thoughts off of boobs and he shielded his eyes before he ended up taking another peek at Lizzie.

Lizzie blanched. _Wait, did he just?_ "Swinging Pillows?!" She was beside herself. She was stuck in a fucking _other_ existence with a best friend who had the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old boy, and she was arguing over needing a bra! "That's it!"

Lizzie lunged for Fred's jacket, attacking the buttons, and forcefully attempting to pry the garment off. "If you're not going to give me new clothes then I'm gonna take yours!"

"Hey! Hey!" Fred spun about, trying to get away. He loved his jacket and he wasn't about to let her get her sopping wet hands all over it. Lizzie fought him like a desperate little animal, refusing to relent and the two of them rolled around the kitchen island, twisting and knocking against the counter. "Let go of me, you bloody raccoon!" Fred slapped at her hands, but Lizzie was relentless.

"Give it to me, Fred, or so help me!" She pried the buttons fastening his jacket apart and shoved it open. Dragging a sleeve down Fred's arm, she yanked it from his grasp.

"Oi, woman! I'm gonna be cold!" Fred made a grab for his beloved jacket, but the reach made him press ever so slightly against Lizzie's wet body. "Ugh!" Recoiling immediately, Fred flopped about and fell against the kitchen table, still half in his jacket. There was a wet imprint on his chest from where his shirt had touched hers. "How DARE you!" he cried. "My own best friend?!" He pointed at his chest. "Look at this! I've been stamped and robbed!"

Lizzie struggled to ignore Fred's rants and the slight tingling in her breasts where they had pressed against him. Clinging to her captured sleeve, she felt like she might have slightly lost her mind, but was too far gone to care. As calmly as she could muster she said, "Fred, if you don't give me this jacket _right now_ , I'M GOING TO STAMP YOU AGAIN!"

"Back off, nipples witch! You already have well enough, I'd say, FRIEND!" he shouted, standing up and looking down at the front of his shirt with a pout. "Are you satisfied? You and your pointy friends? Hmm? Look at this, you can almost see my nipples now!"

An audible choke escaped her and she abruptly let go of Fred's sleeve. "Fine, if you can't _share_ after getting _me_ wet, then I'm going to go find something else to wear! Me AND my pointy friends!" With a huff, she turned on her heels and stomped her way to the stairs, intent on rummaging through Mickey's clothes. Hopefully she'd find something he wouldn't miss.

"UGGHH, stop it! Alright!" he said. His jacket suddenly appeared on Lizzie, covering her and all her pointy bits. "You've worn my jockeys already tonight. Why not my jacket? Let's just give you the whole outfit. Why do I need it?" he ranted, talking more to himself than Lizzie as he walked over.

Relief washed through her when she felt the jacket's weight settle over her. Now that her bits were covered Fred would stop snarking about them. Pulling the sleeves up, Lizzie stopped and eyed Fred's tantrum. Without his jacket on she could see the bright yellow undershirt that he always wore topped with a pair of suspenders. This wasn't really news to her, having seen the shirt peek from underneath his jacket most of her childhood, but what made her pause was that she could now see how Fred _filled_ that shirt.

Studying him close, she noticed that Fred had a surprisingly hard body. Since he had always shown up wearing his trademark jacket, she had never seen him without it unless he transformed it into something else. For some reason she had never before considered the idea of how he looked underneath. Now she couldn't seem to help it.

_He's actually kind of handsome..._

"I'll just be NUDE!" he shouted. "I'm Drop Dead Fred. Apparently, I give to the needy!" He wriggled. It felt so weird without his jacket, like a part of himself was gone.

Lizzie flushed from head to toe at the mental image forming in her head. _Don't picture him naked. Don't picture him naked. Don't you dare picture him naked!_ It came dangerously close, but she managed to keep the lewd picture at bay. Surreptitiously she tried burying her face by drowning in Fred's jacket to hide her growing flush.

"Well, now that I've spared you from raiding Fartpants' panty drawer, can we move on?" he asked at last, setting his hands on his hips in the snarky way he did that wiggled his upper body. Glancing at the front door, he added, "I suppose we have some time before Nat gets here, and I'd like my jacket back before she does. So, how 'bout we practice on teaching you to make clothes? 'Cuz there's no way I'm conjuring up a girl's holster. That'll be the day..."

All of Lizzie's previous indignation vanished. "Holster? What's the matter, Fred? Don't like the word? Say it with me, 'bra,' Fred." Smirking, she shrugged Fred's jacket tighter around her body.

"Don't go sayin' such dirty words around me. I work with children, ya know!"

"Brassier!" she countered.

"Oi! Stop it, ya pervert or I'll have to gouge out my ears."

"So you can look up women's skirts and talk about panty drawers, but you find words that deal with breasts vulgar?" A devious grin split her lips. "Are you afraid of tits, Fred?" she teased.

He reddened. "I am NOT! You're just... Well, you're just a- Well, how would you like it if I flashed you, huh?" he shouted and swung his hips up in protest. "A rousing game of I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

Fred was so embarrassed he barely knew what he was saying at this point. All he knew was he wanted to get her back for it.

Lizzie didn't know how, but she could sense Fred's embarrassment â€“ and an embarrassed Fred was a vengeful one. Still, a dangerous idea struck her.

Tucking her hands below her head, she put on her most confident face and said, "'Kay. I'll show you mine if you show me yours." She counted on him to ultimately back out because if he didn't she would be forced to eat her words and more.

"You'll... Really?" His wide eyes darted over her like a game of pinball. "You know I'm serious, don't you? Because I'll do it! I'm mad crazy like that."

Fred's nervous composure, however, told Lizzie otherwise and she forced herself to stay calm and not to snicker or cringe at her plans. Widening her eyes a little, she played innocent like her life depended on it.

"Well, you were always complaining that I was too uptight, so yeah! I mean, it's just a pair of boobs, right? Shouldn't be a big deal. In fact, I think it would really help me get over my shyness if we could just get this out of the way right now."

_Here goes nothing..._

Taking the hem of her shirt, Lizzie slowly inched it up her rib cage.

_Come on Lizzie, don't back out now!_

Fred flipped, flinging his hands up so fast they may as well have been holding hot coals from the depths of Hell. "Whoa! Whoa! Hold it! Turn your high beams off, young lady! I'm your friend, I mean, I am, but I'm not THAT friendly- Oh, for fuck's sake, Snotface, I was just kidding; it was a game!"

Lizzie dropped her hands, slapping them to her sides, the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. "GOTCHA!" she cried, doubling over with laughter. "Ha! Hahaha... That... is what you get... for making me wet!" she managed in between guffaws. "Don't worry, Fred, the virtue of your eyes is safe with me," she added in mock seriousness.

Fred stared at her, pouting a long while. _Oh, she's gonna get it when I come up with something later._ "Hrrr, hrrr, hrrr!" he bellowed. "I wasted my time making you wet, I should've drowned you," he muttered. "Can we just get on to the lesson?"

Lizzie giggled. "Sure, I think that would be a good idea."

Plopping herself on the foot of the stairs, she hid her face behind his larger sleeves and stared up at him expectantly. A pleasant scent wafted under her nose and Lizzie realized that it was Fred's. Trying to be sneaky, she took a sniff and made a small hum behind her sleeve. He smelled rather pleasant for such a brat.

Rubbing his hands together, Fred paced in front of her, trying to escape the red on his face. "Good because I really wouldn't have been much help magicking you a dumpling harness and those things need contained." He took a deep breath and stopped. For a split second he noticed the glint of happiness in her eyes and it brought a slight smile to the corner of his mouth. He loved seeing her this way, in those brief moments when nothing troubled her, even if she was such a snotface. Especially right now.

"Right..." he said. "This can get tricky and we don't need any more mishaps. It's probably best you practice on me so you don't expose yourself any further. My eyes need a rest." He felt a flush warm his face. "So, concentrate ONLY on the top half," he said, eyes widening at her for emphasis. "And try to change my shirt to a different color. We'll start small."

Squinting at his shirt she asked, "So I just try to imagine it a different color, I guess?"

"While using your magic, yeah. Should be easy for you."

Nodding, Lizzie closed her eyes and imagined Fred's yellow shirt had turned a lovely shade of blue. A part of her had been tempted to turn it into something girly, but she figured they had gone through enough drama in the past little while. Biting her lip, Lizzie held the thought of Fred in her mind and tried to imagine her magic going _into_ that image. She held her breath and a moment later opened her eyes to see if it had worked.

Admittedly, Fred had been riddled with anxiety the whole time, and breathed, perhaps too loud, a sigh of relief when he saw his shirt change from yellow to blue. "Hey, great! Nice job. See, I told those bastards you'd be good at this. You're my Snotface after all!" Clucking his tongue, he flashed her a wink.

Lizzie couldn't help the deep warmth she felt at Fred's compliment. She never got complimented for anything, not genuinely anyway, and to know that Fred had so much faith in her made her glow with self-pride. "I guess maybe I can get the hang of this. Should we try something else?"

"That's the spirit! Alright. Change my shirt." He held his arms out at his sides with a chipper, expectant expression.

"'Kay! I think I'm going to try it a little differently this time." She knew that she needed to be able to perform magic on the fly, and that meant that she couldn't be closing her eyes every time she needed to do something. So, she stared at Fred in his new, blue shirt for a long while, trying to decide what she should redress him in.

"Take your time," he said.

Lizzie nodded. She wanted to _really_ impress him this time. Different tops and shirts flitted through her mind, but none of them seemed right. She wanted to do something amazing, something he would never expect.

"Hmm, you know I kinda feel like a doll," Fred mused at the whole moment.

The image came so fast she couldn't help it, and before she knew it her magic had responded. Lizzie felt her face flame once more as Fred's blue shirt disintegrated into nothing and he stood there with just his trousers and suspenders! "Oh my!" she whispered quietly as she found herself openly staring at a half-naked Fred.

Fred sniffed. "Yeah, that's... that's why I said just the top," he said, looking down at himself. He wasn't a bit embarrassed. Fred had no shame when it came to his body and he certainly saw no reason that this would be any sort of problem for Lizzie. "Well, the job's half done," he said, lifting his gaze back on her, but he paused as he noticed her gaping at him.

This made Fred blush. Something about that look in her eyes felt invasive to him, and he didn't like the vulnerable feel. "What? You never seen such a perfect specimen before?" Fred charged with an inescapable impulse to make that look on her face worse just for staring at him like that. Plus, she deserved it after taking his jacket. _Bloody hell, she's still staring... Well alright._

Smirking, he licked his fingertips, then pretended like he were brushing something off one of his nipples. "Hmm, bit of lint. I HAAAATE it when that happens," he said, flicking it away and looking back at Lizzie. "Bloody hell. You're redder than a cherry, Snotface. Can I get you anything? Some popcorn for the show?"

Lizzie. Wanted. To. Die. The ability to speak had apparently fled her and now she was caught staring open-mouthed between Fred's face and his exposed and rather well-defined chest.

_Oh. Oh god._

"Blink twice if you're in there!" he shouted.

At that, her seemingly ever-present irritation flared, allowing Lizzie to finally close her mouth. She was sorely tempted to say something rude to cover up the way she had blatantly ogled her friend, but a superior plan of attack struck her instead.

"No, I don't think I have seen better. You should go shirtless more often," she said with the straightest face she could manage. She had so little dignity left; she was determined not to lose what little shred she still possessed!

It was Fred's turn to freeze. Had she just... Had she just complimented his... Fred's eyes shifted to and fro, visually giving away just how hard his mind was trying to figure out a response. Before he could properly think, however, his mouth went on without him. "What?"

Lizzie swallowed a smile. She had him! "No really! Is there like an imaginary friend gym membership somewhere? You're pretty fit." Adding to the effect she stood up and poked his bicep, making him flinch.

Fred tried to look anywhere, but at Lizzie. Was she flirting with him? No. No, she couldn't be. Was she? No. Fred went back and forth with this personal crisis for quite some time and only snapped out of it when he felt her poke him a second time.

"Ahh! Uh..." He finally blinked and focused on her, nervous as all hell, until he realized- She was bloody messing with him. Her touch had given it away. _Well, I'll show her._

"No, it's all me, actually," he said, smiling. Lifting a hand he ran his fingers through his messy hair. The action caused his arm to flex in Lizzie's view in the moment before he dropped it. "I just luckily dropped dead this way. But, since, uh, we're exchanging compliments and all, Snotface. I have something to tell you." He looked in her eyes with the most serious stare he had. "More of a confession, really."

The mention of Fred's demise was enough to wipe all sense of humor out of Lizzie. Dropping her hand she took a step back, studiously keeping her eyes on Fred's face. "Oh, what's that? Did you want to tell me that one of my headlights went out?" She gave a laugh, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Actually, no. They're both quite nice," he said. Fred's tone, his features, and even the way he shifted his body to face her suddenly took on the tone of the adult side of himself he rarely showed. "I honestly didn't want to cover them up." He kept staring into her eyes and Lizzie's heart stopped.

All she could manage in response was a squeaky, "Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, stepping closer and brushing a finger along her sleeve. "I've always been sort of curious about you. I find you very attractive."

She was dead. She had failed the test and Damion had banished her to some weird limbo where she and Fred were having some sort of sexually charged conversation. That was the only explanation she had!

"Erm, you did? I mean- You do?" she stammered.

Fred brought his face close to hers and paused a second, until his features contorted into his usual snotty expression, topped with a laugh. "Hahaha! Oh, look at you! I really had you going, didn't I?" He lunged for the buttons of his jacket, trying to take back what belonged to him. "Give me that before I catch cold!"

Stunned, Lizzie didn't protest as Fred forcefully removed the jacket from her shoulders and put it back on. _Did that really just happen? Did we just flirt with each other?!_

Through her daze Lizzie noticed that his ever-present yellow shirt had returned, hiding his naked chest from view as the cool air made her painfully aware that she was once more sans covering with a soaked shirt. A feeling that tasted vaguely like hysteria licked the edges of her brain.

_What's a few nipples between friends?_

Turning around and closing her eyes, Lizzie concentrated on imagining dry clothes for herself and a _very_ sturdy bra. The tingle of her magic ran all over her body and she was pleased to discover that it had worked. Now shielded, of sorts, she whirled back on Fred, sticking her tongue out at him in the most juvenile way possible. He had a way of bringing that out in her. Maybe they needed to get back to her training and forget about all this weirdness that just happened.

Holding her hand out, she grinned at him, and declared, "'Kay, we're even now."

Fred smiled, but adjusted his jacket to his liking, before taking Lizzie's hand. "Fair enough," he said, shaking on it. "Nice job on the shirt there. I can see this is gonna be a lot of fun. Think of all the things we'll smash together once I teach you all the tricks." He let go of her hand and tried not to think too much on what had just happened between them. _Just_ a _joke that got out of hand_ , he told himself. He'd always loved teasing her senseless. Still, he wanted to grin at the flustered look she'd had upon seeing his chest.

"Okay, so now what?" she asked, putting her hands behind her back.

"Hmm. Well, I'm not gonna start you off tonight with transporting or changing shape and size. That can get rather... tricky. Erm, but there are a few things I guess you should know about being an imaginary friend." Fred took a seat on one of the steps and patted the empty spot beside him. Lizzie took a seat.

Admittedly, she was rather curious to know 'the rules' and everything. "Like what? I'm pretty sure I have watched you do just about everything under the sun, so I can't imagine that you have many restrictions."

"Well, there you'd be wrong," he said. "There are some rules. We're not complete maniacs." Fred sniggered. "First of all, you can never, ever, EVER let a grown up know you're real. Er... well grown up who isn't your charge," he added after realizing who he was talking to. "Sorry, you're the first adult to have one of us, so old habit."

Lizzie scrunched her face. "I kinda figured that. What are the other rules?"

"When your friend needs you, you always have to be there, but sometimes it's better to let them try and figure things out themselves. It's really easy, see, 'cuz you'll get this link that tells you when to intervene. Sort of like a tether getting yanked." Fred tried to figure out if he could fudge this explanation, since he didn't want Lizzie to be able to link with him that way. It left him conflicted, but so far she hadn't seemed to have had any signs of experiencing that. The link was always automatic and usually began quickly after connecting with a new charge. He wondered if somehow it was wonky given that he was also an imaginary friend.

"You'll also get to sense your charge's emotions to help you figure out the best way to help them," he finally added. "You can't control it, either. They just sort of become a part of you."

Lizzie blinked. So he had been at her beck and call that whole time? Closer to her than she ever knew? _Does that mean I became a part of him?_ "Wow, that's... that's pretty amazing, actually. I had no idea that you put so much of yourself into being my friend," she admitted. "Did you... What I mean is... Did you get any say? On whether or not you were my friend? I mean, what if you hated me as a kid? Could you have opted out and gone to a different child?"

"Hated you?" his voice hitched at that ridiculous statement and he looked as if he'd just been poisoned. "Snotface, I never hated you, or any child I've helped for that matter. And no, you're stuck with who you get, but that's okay because we're never sent to any kid who wouldn't match up with us anyway. Somehow the magic knows who works for us. Though, we do get a say in accepting before we take 'em on. I did with you... and I was scared shitless to go to you. I actually worried you wouldn't like _me_ , especially since you were my first friend."

This revelation made Lizzie ridiculously happy and she couldn't help the sheepish grin she gave Fred as she bumped her shoulder against his. "Naw, I think I would have chosen you, too, even if it was the other way around," she told him sweetly, bringing him to smile at her. "So, how do you know when your time with a child is through?"

Fred wrung his hands as he thought of how best to explain it. "You'll feel the tether break. Everything just sort of goes quiet. Like you're all alone again." He shuddered a little, as he hated the memory of that empty feeling when he had to leave them. "Then you only have so long before your magic can't reach them and they can't see you anymore." His eyes met with Lizzie's and he placed a hand on her knee. "That's why I couldn't go back with you."

"Oh, well... that sounds... kinda awful, actually." Lizzie frowned before covering Fred's hand with her own. They didn't have to be apart anymore and she wanted him to know she was grateful for that. "So how do you get your next assignment, then? Do you get sent back to the weirdos six and get told where to go? That seems kind of... I don't know... unkind. I mean, if you're just barely leaving a child that you've established a bond with and then you're expected to immediately start a new one... seems like that doesn't take your feelings into account very much, does it?" She knew this topic would bring some wounds of its own, after all their own goodbye had been such a short time ago, but she kept discovering that she owed Fred a lot more than she had ever imagined.

He had taken the charge of her happiness when he himself had been new to the concept. He had watched over her, been her confidant, and even returned for her when she had been ready to let others get the final say in her life. And only now she learned just how deep the idea of friendship meant to him and it left her in awe. Lizzie swore right then that if everything turned out okay - and it would - that she would spend the rest of her own little eternity being the best friend he could possibly have.

Fred winced at the questions. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into any of this. Feelings were never his strong suit, but he knew Lizzie. He knew how abandoned she'd always been for affection, for honesty, and after today he knew even without his magic what she needed right now was for him to give her some small piece of himself. _Guess I never really stopped being her imaginary friend..._

Staring at their touching hands, he decided she needed to hear it so she knew she still belonged somewhere. _God, I'm being such a girl, aren't I?_

"I've gotta admit," he started, "it does hurt... for the moment, but then you move on to the next child, and the bond with them usually fills in all the holes, and you forget." Fred made sure to look at her now. "But not always," he spoke softly, a gentle and bittersweet look on his face. "Some friends you never forget." That was as close as Fred could get to telling her how special she was to him, how much it had destroyed him with guilt the first time he'd had to say goodbye. Hell, that hadn't even been a goodbye, and their second parting hadn't felt much better. Something had just felt unfinished.

Squeezing her knee, Fred bumped his shoulder back against hers and smiled. "And yes, then you're sent back to those bastards and you get new assignments to pick from. There's always more of 'em than us." His thumb absently stroked Lizzie's knee, his thoughts drifting ahead to the remaining information he needed to go over.

Lizzie felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. "Did it hurt you? To leave me, I mean?" she whispered hesitantly. It seemed that every time she thought she knew the score, she found that she had wronged him or caused him even more pain than she had previously imagined.

"Yes," he said, quietly. "It did, probably about as much as it did you." He kept his eyes on the ground, not sure how he'd actually admitted that so readily.

Unable to help herself, Lizzie threw her arms around her friend and squeezed him as hard as she could. "I didn't want to leave you, you have to believe me. I know it's my fault that we got separated, and I am SO SORRY that I couldn't stand up to her, that I didn't fight hard enough to keep you. A little bit inside of me died every day that you were gone. I missed you _so_ much! I'm so sorry, Fred!"

A soft whimper escaped him before he could stop it, and Fred coiled his arms back around her tight. "I missed you, too, Snotface. And I'm sorry I didn't come back before you'd grown up. I really wanted to, but he wouldn't let me. I tried, I begged, I pleaded. I did everything I could, but all I could get was the deal that if you reopened that stupid box..." He choked, too overwhelmed to say any more, all his pain just seemed to be tumbling out of him before he could breathe.

Tears rolled down Lizzie's face and absorbed into the fabric of Fred's jacket. She tried to tighten her hold on him, to try and take some of his pain into herself. She deserved it. She had done this to him, to them. "Ssshhhh," she soothed, giving him a quick heartfelt kiss on his cheek. "I know you did everything you could, I do. I was lucky to have ever had you in the first place, let alone to have you come back. Besides," she said, attempting to lighten the conversation, "I'm not so sure that you being able to intervene on the rest of my formative years would have improved my chances any. I think we can both agree that I was pretty lousy at being an adult."

Lizzie paused. She didn't want this to come out wrong. "You know what? Even though things are crazy and I pretty much died I- I think I might actually end up being happier here with you than I could have been anywhere else. You're the most important person in my life, Fred. Always have been. Wherever you are, I want to be there too if you'll keep me as a friend."

Fred squeezed her harder for a moment like it would let him keep every word she'd just confessed. "I wouldn't have asked for you if I didn't intend to have you around," he said, pulling out of the hug and placing his hand back on her knee. Lizzie grinned and rested hers once more on top, and Fred experienced a bitter sweetness about everything. "Your mother was awful, and it wasn't your fault I couldn't come back, though I'm a little glad you were so piss poor at being an adult or we wouldn't be having this conversation." He smiled and sighed.

Fred knew why Damion picked the people he did for imaginary friends, a reason he certainly wouldn't get into with Lizzie for fear of breaking her spirit... She wasn't the ideal in that nutter's gourd, but she certainly didn't fit in the adult world either. He'd tried rounding out her edges and smashing her into fitting as best she could, but he had known she was different. He'd felt it. All his help had seemed like a Band-Aid.

 _Maybe that's my fault in a way?_ He sighed again. The night he'd popped out of the Jack-in-the-box and greeted her, he remembered very distinctly how she'd reveled in the mention of games with him, although he'd also very clearly felt horror and anger. There had certainly been a tumult of conflict within her. Fred had known, though, that it was simply her fighting herself; furious at herself for not being the cookie cutter grown up she felt pushed to be and mad at him for being so late to return. At least he'd finally told her how he'd always wanted to come back, perhaps if only to make up for it a little.

However, Lizzie's confession about being happier like this, here with him, made Fred swell with joy. While he wanted to tell her he felt the same, after all the jumbles of emotions, all that came out was, "Sorry you died, but at least now the fun starts." _Wow, I think I just actually disappointed myself_ , he thought, reaching up to scratch his head with his free hand.

"Erm... thanks. Well, it's not much fun by yourself, so it's a good thing I have you." A concerning thought occurred to her. "I am going to get to still see you after training, aren't I? Damion isn't going to send me to someone in Timbuktu just to be an ass, is he?" A real tremor of panic crept into her voice. After all of this she didn't think she could bear it if Fred wasn't with her.

Instantly Fred's arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him. "No. Come 'ere. If that bastard tries it, let him. Nothing can separate us, Snotface. You're made of magic now. Did you forget you and I can always find each other?" He stroked the side of her head, amazed to see her so broken up about him. "IFs get friends, you know. You've put me in a right state this night, so if you think I'm ever going away, then you're completely potty."

Lizzie rested her forehead against Fred's. "Good. Because you're stuck with me. You only get one get out jail free card and you already used yours up. So... is there anything else I need to know so I don't screw this up?"

"Umm... A couple, at least." One of them he didn't want to bring up, but he knew if he didn't it could possibly one day endanger Lizzie's newfound life.

Gently, he let his hand slip from her head down to her shoulder where he gave it a light squeeze. He hated heavy, adult conversations. Until tonight he didn't think he'd ever had so many, even when he was still a human.

_I'd better make this quick so I can get back to cheering her up before Fishface and Fartpants get back._

"There's something you need to know about. Something really important, Lizzie." He pulled his head back from hers enough to look her in the eyes.

Uneasiness filled her. He was never this serious unless it was something bad. "Okay, what is it?"

"We're not invincible. There's... There's something that can hurt us. Um..." His words didn't seem to want to come out the way he wanted. "We attach to children through magic, and... well, we don't exist here, so the, uh..." _Damn, this is harder than I imagined._ "The life force of the child is what keeps us in it, and if, if that gets severed... we, we die." Fred couldn't bring himself to say any more. He didn't want to mention the pills, to make her feel responsible. He just tightened his hold around her so maybe she'd know he wasn't upset with her.

Lizzie felt physically ill. There was a knot in her stomach, rushing upwards, and she was going to be sick, imaginary friend or not.

 _I hurt him. I damn near killed my best friend... all so that I could try and make myself into something that other people wanted! Oh god, who does that?_ It hadn't ever occurred to her; she hadn't even thought it through - not then or now - the implications of what she had really been doing whenever she'd swallowed those fucking green pills! She had been slowly killing him with every gulp and she hadn't cared! A wet splash hit their joined hands and Lizzie realized she had begun crying.

With a sob she wrenched her hand from his and turned away from him. She couldn't bear to touch him or look him in the face, not after what she had done to him! How could he still stand to be near her after what she did?

"They told me..." It took every effort to calm her breathing enough to speak, every breath catching when it reached her throat, and she thought she might choke around her words. But she had to get this out. "They told me that the pills would fix the part of my brain that was having trouble, that they would fix _me._ I guess that... I thought that meant if it worked, then it was me all along. And that you weren't really real... I am _so_ sorry! I just wanted to be fixed! To finally be good enough, and I didn't care how that happened and I HURT you and I am so- _so-_ "

By this point she couldn't talk anymore as her huge sobs wracked her frame. She was a despicable person and an even worse friend, and she could never make it up to the one person who had ever really mattered. Who had thought that _she_ mattered.

An agonizing thought occurred to her. "Why didn't you leave?" she whispered. It seemed insane to her that he would have stuck around the way he did. She had been down to the very last pill, if he hadn't convinced her to look in on Charles, he probably wouldn't be here now...

"Why didn't you go?" she repeated. "Left me and found another child? Someone who would have deserved to have you as their friend and didn't try to _kill_ you?"

"Because... Because I couldn't. You needed me." Aching, Fred pulled her against him with both arms, her back pressing to him. "You... I couldn't go until you didn't anymore... and..." He could feel her shaking in his arms and once again he felt torn apart. He just wanted to take every last painful memory she had away, to go back and fix all of this, back to the day he'd gotten into that damned Jack-in-the-box. Then maybe she wouldn't have needed Charles. She would have been happier, had herself, and never ended up in this whole oozing tragedy. Then she wouldn't be in his arms right now blaming herself...

"Snotface, don't. Stop this, please. You didn't try to kill me, okay? How could you know? You didn't, and so that's not what it was." He rocked her in his arms. "You didn't know."

Lizzie turned and buried her face in his chest and held him for all she was worth. She was probably soaking his shirt with her tears, but she couldn't seem to stop crying. _Just one more thing I've done wrong..._ she thought. Still, she had to stop being hysterical for a moment. She owed him that. It hurt to look up into his face and see the concern for her wellbeing there. He was always worried about _her_ , trying to make sure _she_ was okay.

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you okay now? Did those pills do any permanent damage to you?" Using her hands she suddenly felt the need to check him over and make sure that he was alright. She hadn't noticed him acting poorly, had she? Guilt spurred her to run her hands over his chest and feel his heartbeat, to make sure that it was still beating strong and healthy. "Can you ever forgive me?" she whispered into his chest because she didn't think she could forgive herself.

Fred's heart beat faster at her touch and before he knew it he'd wrapped his arms so tight around her he couldn't feel where he ended and she began. "I'm fine, Snotface. There's nothing wrong with me that wasn't already there." He brought his chin to lay atop her head and closed his eyes. _I can't leave her taking it this way._ Fred exhaled, hoping it would rid him of the crushing emotion in his chest. "Look at me," he whispered, lifting his head from hers.

Lizzie tilted her head, but kept her eyes down. She was too ashamed of herself to look him in the eye.

"There's nothing to forgive. You... you didn't-" He struggled to deal with the subject, but it became too much for him. "Hey, it's my fault, okay? I didn't tell you what was happening-"

Fred's shirt crumpled under the curl of Lizzie's fingers. "That was NOT your fault! I made the decision to listen to Charles and my mother. I let them manipulate me! NOT YOU! Don't you dare try and take the blame for this, for once it was all MY fault!" Anger had finally given her the strength to look Fred in the eye as she tried to get her point across. She had already caused him so much pain when all he had ever done was try and help her, she wasn't about to let him feel bad for it too; this was all on her.

"Well, it's not YOUR fault!" he snapped back. "I was the bastard keeping it to myself, so if I want to take it, I will!" His tone started to get that usual snottiness of his.

With Fred's snark beginning to show, Lizzie knew that he wouldn't let it go. Besides, she was tired of fighting. She could agree with him even if she didn't really mean it. Taking a big breath she released the death grip that she had on his shirt and smoothed out the creases. "Alright, then it's both our faults. So we will just agree that we're both sorry and move on. Friends 'til the end, right?" she asked, hopefully.

Her gentle hands broke Fred's growing frenzy. He'd had a whole rant at the ready, but she'd effectively shattered it and now he didn't know what to do. "Well... if you're gonna be so stubborn about it, like a _girl_ , then I guess," he said with a huff, but Fred's gentler eyes locked with hers. "I forgive you." Leaning in, he kissed her at the corner just next to her mouth, a short peck, briefer than the one he'd given at their goodbye. "Now can we move on?"

Lizzie gave one last sniff before forcing herself to get it under control. The skin next to her mouth tingled where Fred had kissed her. "Alright. Just... please tell me that was the worst thing you had to tell me? I'm not sure I can take any more bad information." Tense, she sat back out of his arms and waited to see if he had anything else to share.

"Well, you've already seen Enzo in his stockings, so yeah, that's it." Fred scratched his chest where Lizzie had been nestled and started to count on his fingers, ticking off all the things he had left to cover.

"Right... so there's not much left. Rule number four, NEVER acknowledge Cale on a Wednesday. Just don't it." He shook his head. "You'll regret yourself if you do."

Lizzie opened her mouth to ask why, but then thought better of it. She probably didn't want to know. "Okay, got it. I don't think it will be that hard to avoid him or any of them on Wednesdays, or any day for that matter."

Fred laughed. "So that's basically it. Have fun, put your charges first, get crazy stupid, and break wind in your wake!" Enthusiasm carried him to sway with his words. "Just be yourself, Snotface." Picking his nose, he flicked the piece of snot at Lizzie and grinned.

A snort escaped Lizzie's mouth. "Right! I promise to do... most of that!" Dutifully she picked her own nose and wiped it on Fred's sleeve before offering up her pinky finger in silent promise. Fred took it and smirked in satisfaction.

"You'll do just great, Snotface. Anything else you'd like to ask? Feels like Nat's gonna be here before long."

"Just one or two things. Like, do we ever need to actually sleep? I know you liked to do the whole bat thing, but do we actually need it? And if we don't, can we anyways if we want to? I can't imagine going forever without at least a temporary break. Oh, and what about eating? Please tell me we can eat if we want to because I think I might die a little if you tell me I can never really have chocolate again!" she finished, anxiously. Now that she had started questions were popping into her mind and out of her mouth a mile a minute.

Amused, Fred magicked a candy bar he remembered being Lizzie's favorite right into her hand. "We can eat. Just nothing from this world." His eyes motioned at the room. "But you can make anything you like and have as much as you want. You'll never gain an ounce. And I mean you can _really_ eat anything!" Fred made a tennis ball appear in his hand, opened his mouth, and shoved it in. His jaw stretched unnaturally to accommodate the size and he swallowed it with a grimace, a bulge appearing as it slid down his throat like he were a cartoon.

After it vanished, Fred opened his mouth for her look. "See! Magic's great." Fred belched and lightly beat his chest with his fist. "Although, I can't say it tastes very well when it's nonfood." He laughed. "But sleeping! Yeah, we can if we absolutely _want_ to. I don't. I find it's trouble most of the time. Plus, we don't need it and we don't get tired. Not physically, anyway."

A childlike squeal escaped Lizzie at the sight of the candy bar. With relish she bit into the chocolaty confection and moaned in delight. "Oh, thank god! Or is it gods?" she wondered out loud. Either way she didn't care because the afterlife just got a whole lot better. She wasn't dead, she had Fred, and a never-ending supply of chocolate!

Licking the bits that had melted on her fingers, she smiled at him. "I take back everything I ever said." Lick. "You are..." Lick. "...seriously..." Another Lick. "...my favorite person ever right now!" Finally she found the last little bit and quickly scooped it up with her tongue. "Maybe I should just name you the new god and worship you instead," she teased. "You seem to give better favors than they do!"

The whole while Fred just watched her, brimming with amusement and joy at seeing this rarely seen side to Lizzie, but that joy took a turn. Slowly Fred became hypnotized by the way her tongue lapped up every last drop of chocolate, so very, _very_ thoroughly. All thoughts abandoned him in that moment and all he knew was a faint tension stirring inside him, until Lizzie's final comments. Immediately his mind snapped to an image of Lizzie on her knees giving him a very specific favor, and Fred leapt up from the stairs so fast he tripped and fell flat on the floor.

"Oh my god! Are you okay, Fred?" Lizzie cried.

Red-faced, Fred bolted upright. "I'm fine!" he said _way_ too loud, his body coursing with what felt like explosive amounts of energy. _What was he doing?_ "I was..." Fred's mind was utterly blank with an excuse and all he could think was, _Shit, shit, fucking shit._

Lizzie winced with uncertainty at his response. _I wonder if he finally took one too many to the head?_

Hopping off of her stoop, Lizzie offered him her hand. "Well, now isn't the time for sleep, so get up, lazy butt." She grinned. When he didn't make a move she let out in a singsong voice, "Freeeed, all the other gods are watchiiiiiing."

His hand shot out for hers at last, letting her help him back up. _I hope not,_ he thought. "I'm not going to bed with you," he said rather quick. "It's not time for bed, I mean. We've... Do you want another chocolate?" he asked before he could help himself.

Lizzie stared at her friend in consideration for a very long moment before she answered, "Hmm, maybe later." She couldn't help it; she loved teasing him! It was fun to get the upper hand sometimes, especially when their previously running scorecard read: Lizzie 2; Fred 1,000,000,000,000.

"Damn," said Fred, only to mentally slap himself for it. Had he really just said that aloud? He decided no more candy for a while. A LONG while. "So, any- anymore questions... Snotface?" He straightened his suit and hoped the use of her childhood nickname would reel him back in.

Lizzie decided she really needed to find a snarky nickname for him _soon._ "Nope, I think that about covers it for now. Just to be sure, though, there aren't any deranged loopholes that I'm supposed to know about, is there? Like never cross the street dressed like a chicken while eating ice cream on Tuesdays?"

Fred laughed, his tensions slipping away at the change of subject. "Not since Manic Mondays and Drastic Thursdays," he said.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I can only imagine. I can see why you would want to spend all of your time with kids after meeting your so-called 'superiors,' but they did technically give me a job so I guess I should thank my lucky stars that they're all a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

"You know I never had one of those," said Fred.

Lizzie smiled, but a sober thought suddenly crossed her mind and she felt her nerves return. "So when do we go see Natalie?"

Shrugging, Fred said, "I suppose as soon as she gets here, and after her dad's tucked her in. That's when she usually needs me this time of night. We should probably pop into the guest room for now 'til then. I can tell she needs her dad for a bit and I should stay out of sight."

The mention of Mickey brought a pang of guilt to Lizzie's heart. She had been so wrapped up in everything that she hadn't even spared a thought to her _other_ childhood friend. "Was he... I mean- Did he seem really upset?" she asked Fred, sure that he would have seen him at the hospital and was therefore the only one who could prepare her for what she should expect when the Bunce's finally came home.

"He told your mother what a bitch she is." Fred figured that was happiest highlight of the whole afternoon, and so he'd just lead with that. "I was actually proud."

Lizzie nodded. She wanted to continue, to ask how upset he had been, but for some reason it felt inappropriate to ask that kind of information from Fred. Besides, she would find out soon enough the kind of damage she had left behind. She knew that everything between them had still been very new, and she wasn't sure if they could have really called what they had a relationship yet, but it _had_ been something.

_Now it will never be anything..._

Lizzie expected that kind of dark thought to bring with it a deep stab of pain, the kind you feel when you've lost something important â€“ but she didn't. Oh, there was worry that she had caused her poor friend and his sweet daughter any kind of lasting trauma, and a sort of ache around the idea of what they could have been, but Lizzie was rather surprised to find that it wasn't as bad as she thought it should be.

 _Maybe I'm still in shock_ , she thought, but looking at her friend â€“ her best friend â€“ she knew that wasn't really it. She had felt greater losses before.

"Well, I'm glad that he could finally earn points in your favor," she said. "I can only imagine how bad Mother was, especially if it was enough to get Mickey angry. He's usually very calm and mellow."

_And boring... Now where had that thought come from?!_

"Oh, it's a lovely tale!" said Fred with excitement. "Would you like to hear it?" His arms swung out in dramatic fashion. Something about retelling how Polly Cronin had finally gone insane and brought the violent streak out in Mickey Fartpants was just too juicy not to tell. "The Megabitch was high on her hell horse, spewing fire that she was gonna sue him because since his car was in the driveway, you had to park across the street! Oh, the whole hospital hated her! Fartpants finally told her to go park across the street at his house and maybe we'd all get lucky." Fred smirked.

"He DIDN'T?!" Lizzie gasped behind her hands, shocked that Mickey would have the guts to say something like that to _her_ mother!

"Oh, he did, Snotface. I watched the whole thing happen. It was GREAT!" His eyes flashed with the long-held passion of sticking it to the Megabitch.

"Oh wow... I'll bet she was sooo mad! I kinda wish I could've been there. Or you know, been awake to see it," she said, wistfully.

Fred's joy receded a bit at the reminder of Lizzie's state during that time, but he made sure not to let his smile falter. The last thing he wanted was to bring her spirits back down when she finally looked, well in the mood she should. "Maybe you'll get a chance. It's your mother. There's bound to be a sequel in the works."

A slightly manic giggle escaped her. "Really?" Struggling to fix the squeak in her voice, she coughed and tried again. "I mean, so you really think I could? Get back at her, I mean? That really was such an awful way to treat Mickey, and then to threaten to sue him on top of that... That's not right!" She had worked herself into a fit of righteous indignation over imagining her mother's treatment of those around her. Even in the wake of her impending death she couldn't find a tiny bit of human decency within her shriveled heart.

"Ooh, it's not fair!" She growled. "She always tramples all over EVERYONE and never cares about what she does to people. She's such a... such a..."

"Megabitch?" Fred finished.

Lizzie pointed at him with wide-eyed fury. "YES! THAT!" Suddenly she began pacing as her thoughts turned over and over in manic frustration. "This has to stop, Fred. People like her shouldn't be allowed to get away with treating others like this! Someone has to stop her!"

The sight of Lizzie's frenzy had Fred hanging on every word. Every utterance was like his life's work finally coming to fruition, and the idea sent him into a high of his own. "YES! That's it! We'll show her! Let's show her what the bitch deserves. Let's tie her to the train tracks! Put her in an oven! Throw her in a well and see if she floats! Or! Oh, shave her head while she's asleep and then glue it on all over her face so she looks like a goat man! Make her regret every way she ever treated you! Let's haunt the _shit_ outta her!"

Lizzie shook her head. "We can't hurt her, Fred. Plus, if we haunt her with petty pranks it's not going to accomplish anything. I want her to do more than pay, I want her to _learn_. She's so concerned about her own image. We need to _ruin_ that image."

"Oh yes! Let's scar her instead. Brilliant!" Fred paced, buzzing that his friend was finally on board with him to get back at the Megabitch. No adult protests, no sensible chatter, just pure-

He stopped, suddenly knocked from his high by the realization of just how uncharacteristic this was for Lizzie, or how unlike her a lot of the moments since coming into the house had been, and then it hit him _why..._ and he grinned SO big.

Pointing at Lizzie, he shouted, "Hey! I know what's happening to you! You're entirely magic manic! Hahahaha! This is great!" His nose crinkled in delight like an animal and he grabbed Lizzie by the shoulders. "This is gonna be FUN!" he said. "You and me, smashing things to bits!" He chortled like a crazy imp, squeezing her shoulders as he erupted with giddiness.

Fred's flurry of excitement only seemed to confuse Lizzie. "What do you mean I'm 'magic manic'? What is that, some kind of imaginary mental disease? Am I going insane?" Her eyes widened considerably. "Oh god. I am, aren't I? I've already lost it!"

Fred couldn't entirely hold back his laugh. "You're not diseased! It's a side effect of the magic. We get a little loopy off it."

Her eyes now felt like they were going to bulge right out of her skull! "YOU MEAN I'M HIGH?!" she shrieked.

Fred playfully held up three fingers, wanting to burst. "That depends... Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Well, THAT depends," she said, sarcastically. "You might want to subtract one or two because I'm going to break them! I didn't sign up to be a MAGIC JUNKIE, FRED!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I only saved your life! Didn't know it would bother you SO much!" he shouted, dripping with sarcasm. "Look, it's not permanent! It comes and goes. Haven't you noticed that with me?"

Lizzie raked her fingernails through her hair. "I just thought you were INSANE! I didn't realize that you were actually hopping on magic juice!"

"Of course I'm insane, but not THAT insane - or I wasn't before this!" he cried, motioning around them. Fred suddenly realized that maybe this part of being an imaginary friend might be difficult for Lizzie after all, and he felt anxiety grip him at Damion's stupid warnings.

"So what you're saying is this: I'm going to become a crazy imaginary maniac whether I like it or not if I want to survive. Oh god! I can't believe I'm going to say this, but-" She choked. "I need to break something!" Standing still and taking a very deep breath through her nose, Lizzie attempted to calm the erratic energy coursing through her. "Fred, I apologize for calling you insane. Now can I please have something to smash?"

He grinned, the feeling radiating off Lizzie was catching. "What's the magic words?" he teased.

"Fuck off?" she asked sweetly through gritted teeth.

Fred's eyes went wide. _Fucking hell! I think I feel a bit turned on by that._

Immediately he slapped his own face and wriggled his fingers with eager anticipation. "Oh, I can see you're gonna be loads of fun!" At Lizzie's request he magicked six porcelain dolls, each in resemblance to one of the bastards of the Other Otherworld. "Smash away, Snotface." He laughed, bouncing on his heels.

An unholy glee took ahold of Lizzie at the thought of being able to absolutely destroy the personifications of those immortal lunatics. It suddenly felt like Christmas, her birthday, and every holiday in between had been rolled up into one exquisite present. Unable to look away, she gestured frantically at Fred with her hands. "Quick, give me something to hit them with! Please!"

"Boy, you're ready to pop, aren't you?" he quipped, making a mallet appear in her hands.

Fred barely had time to finish that sentence, because the moment that Lizzie felt the weight of the mallet in her hands she let out a loud cry and swung straight for the first doll.

"AAAARRRRGGHH!" The inanimate object made a most satisfying sound as it shattered into jagged pieces all over the ground. Barely giving a second, Lizzie immediately swung for the next, aiming her blunt tool right at the face. Again the sharp crack of broken porcelain played like music in her ears. The almost unbearable tension in her body seemed to ease into a euphoric giddiness and for the first time she reveled in it.

An unknowing grin split her face from ear to ear as she descended upon the remaining gods in a righteous wrath until there was only the Damion doll left alive. Unbidden, the memory of her time in the coffin flashed through her mind, accompanied by Damion's smug voice saying, _This might be my new favorite..._

She made sure there was nothing left of him.

Heaving, Lizzie was surprised to find herself out of breath, and turned back to find Fred with wide eyes.

"That looked like it felt great!" Fred sneered, his heart beating with the intensity of a wildfire. He'd never seen Lizzie do ANYTHING like this before, and he was both awed and afraid of the sight. And he liked it. "Bet you feel better now, hmm?" He tilted his head, chewing his bottom lip as he slinked beside her.

Lizzie leaned against the handle of the mallet, observing her handiwork. "You know what? I think I really do," she admitted, surprised. "That crazy energy stuff kinda felt, well, crazy. What happens if you don't let it out? Do you always have to destroy something to get rid of it? I mean, don't get me wrong, smashing those guys in the face was a million times better than any therapy I've ever been to, but there can't always be porcelain gods to destroy, can there?"

"So long as it gets out, doesn't matter what you do with it. The magic needs to play. If you don't use it, it sort of..." He made a face accompanied with a crazy chortle, before his more serious demeanor returned. "So I wouldn't try to hold it in, unless you REALLY wanna to go insane, and if you do, please let me watch! Oh, and not to mention the fits are also fueled by mood changes, or if another IF gets into a state, so if you get rather excited over something, or I do, look out because we'll both end up hopping. They made it that way on purpose. Keeps us playful, though I'm sure that's not the whole of it knowing those lot of fruit loops." He sighed. "This is why only certain people can do the job... So... are you... feeling okay, Snotface?" he asked, his brow creasing with worry.

Was she? Fred's concern sobered her up a bit and Lizzie tried to take serious stock of her emotions. Honestly, she felt fine. A little winded, but otherwise she felt great! She would just have to make sure to keep a careful eye on her energy levels in the future. She didn't want to accidentally end up scaring anyone, or even worse, hurting them. "Yeah," Lizzie admitted. "I think I really am. Thank you for doing that, by the way. It was brilliant!" she praised.

Fred breathed a sigh of relief at hearing that. If Lizzie was good, then that meant Damion was wrong. _I knew she wasn't normal._ "Any time, Snotface. Just say the words and I'll give you the world to smash. Guess I should've mentioned all that earlier, huh?" He grimaced, sheepishly.

Lizzie's heart melted a little. "Aww, Fred, I'm pretty sure you've already given me the world. You've given me yours. Besides, you've been the best friend and the best teacher anyone could have asked for. Thank you for putting up with me. I promise I will make it up to you someday."

Fred smiled, almost bashfully at the compliment from Lizzie. "So... you're not cross anymore about my getting you blitzed on imaginary magic juice?"

She reached out and grabbed Fred's hand. "Don't worry, I only want to break one of your fingers now!" Messing with him, Lizzie gave Fred her biggest smile and his fingers a gentle squeeze.

Fred couldn't help himself. Suddenly, he screamed, jerking his arm back. "Oh god, what have you done to me!?" he bellowed. In Lizzie's hand was his hand, still holding onto hers. "I'll never play the piano! I'll need a hook! Oh god! How will I wank again? Or get a taxi?" In a frenzy, he ran around her, waving his arm high above his head.

A very girly shriek escaped Lizzie before she could help herself and she dropped the offending appendage like it was on fire. "Gah! Oh god, Fred!" As soon as she realized that the hand on the ground wasn't moving her horror turned to laughter. "That scared the crap outta me!" She wiped her hands on her shirt, making a face. "Hey, if that's how you spend your free time you better be washing your hands when we play together, mister!"

The hand on the ground vanished and reappeared in a spark back where it belonged. Fred laughed, tingling from his prank. "Got you good, didn't I?" He shoved his hands into his pockets and thrust his hips out in victory, biting his lower lip.

Of their own accord Lizzie's eyes strayed to Fred's groin when he did his signature Fred move.

 _Did he really mean it about the wanking?_ she wondered. The idea seemed vaguely ridiculous. What reason would an imaginary friend even need for that in this life anyways? No, this was just Fred being Fred, and her being enough of a morbidly curious pervert that made her wonder if he was actually telling the truth or not.

_But what if he could actually feel attraction? And if he doesn't, does that mean I will stop too?_

An image of Fred with no shirt blew that theory out of the water and Lizzie felt herself choke a little. That kind of thinking led to very dangerous territory and Lizzie shook herself before it could go any further. Slightly embarrassed for her train of thought she tried to play it off. "Yeah! Boy, you really scared me! Guess it's gonna be a while before I can compete with you, huh?"

"Of course it is! But I'd loooooove to see you try!" With a wave of his hand, Fred made the smashed dolls disappear. "So got any more questions, concerns, devious plots?" He tried to remember if there was anything else he should tell, or warn her about with being an imaginary friend, but with everything going on it was hard to keep track of the details.

Unfortunately she did have one. "What are you going to tell Natalie when she gets home?" she asked hesitantly.

"Umm..." Fred's expression fell. "Hadn't really thought of that one yet. Nat's a bit upset with me. I can still feel it. So, I don't know. Make it up to her? I'm forbidden from telling her the truth about what happened..." Pain hung over his face at the memory of the hospital and every bleeding moment of worry, followed by his mistake with Natalie. Making promises he couldn't keep. It felt like his mistake with Lizzie all over again from the day he'd first gotten taken away from her. Could he ever not fuck something up on an epic scale?

"Hey, it's going to be okay. I promise." Lizzie placed her hands on Fred's face and forced him to look at her. She hated that he felt the burden of failure so acutely when it wasn't even his fault to begin with. "Look, you're not alone anymore, you've got me to help you now and as you so love to point out, I am such a girl... so I'm sure we can think of something to make it up to her," she said with confidence.

Dropping her hands she got down to business. "Now, you know Natalie better than just about anyone. What are her favorite things? I know that one thing that always took my mind off of being sad and lonely was a great, big party. With so many people, it was harder to feel alone, you know? Do you think Natalie might like something like that, maybe? Like a surprise party just for her?"

By the end of her suggestion her confidence wavered. She didn't really know what to do in the case of cheering up a small child. The only experience she had to go from was her own.

_Well then, maybe that makes you more qualified than you think... Come on, you've got to help Fred!_

"She'd love it!" he answered. "She's got a whole collection of teddies and dolls. We could have a big party with them! But we'll have to make sure that Mickey Fartpants doesn't come snooping in with his big girly nose."

Fred's enthusiasm at her idea resurged Lizzie's confidence. "Great! We can magic some really cool outfits out of her clothes and she can play dress up! Every little girl loooovvves dress up!" She clapped her hands together, giddy at the thought of getting to play such a fun game for the little girl.

"This is what I get for always choosing girls for friends, isn't it?" he said, but his wry smirk gave away that he wasn't entirely in protest about that.

Lizzie just grinned like a madwoman and looped her arm through Fred's so she could steer him towards the stairs and the guest bedroom. "Let's hurry! I've got to practice my outfits before Natalie gets home. What's her favorite color? Do you think we could make jewelry to go with her clothes? And how about the teddies? Can we give them all funny voices and make them talk? Oh! And tea! We absolutely must have tea!"

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway announced that the Bunce's were home, and Fred did all he could to keep up with Lizzie's party planning without his head literally spinning on him.

"Oh my god! They're already here!" she shouted. "Come on, hurry! I've got an idea!" she cried and bodily dragged him up the stairs and into the guestroom.

Fred let the thrill of the unknown rush through him until he was sharing his best friend's grin. Together he and his snotface would make this the best party Natalie had ever had.


	10. Chapter 9: Cooties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors' Notes:
> 
> Zombierose3: Thank you for the reviews and favs on the previous chapter! I hope we're living up to expectations. I dedicate the teddy bear in this chapter in memory of poor Mr. Bear from an episode of The New Statesman with Rik Mayall, of which I don't think I'll ever recover from seeing. I had to put Mr. Bear in a better place. I had to. Now, I'm off to therapy.
> 
> DirtyAim: I'm just here to make sure these two loveable idiots eventually get it on. ;)
> 
> Disclaimers: We don't own Drop Dead Fred, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, The Twilight Zone, Disney, or even Jell-O. We are poor and without profit.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_Cooties_

* * *

 

In the quiet of the Other Otherworld, Damion had indeed been watching Lizzie and Fred, and already he did not like what he observed. Not only did the cronut figure out how to start up her powers, but Fred had held her when she turned emotional over her death, and even divulged one of the biggest secrets of his past. Two things Damion knew went against his very nature, or so he'd thought. Which meant only one thing in his mind: Drop Dead Fred was a bit too close to this _human_. Oh, she would not be an imaginary friend; somehow he'd see to that, and he'd make Fred twist for it.

Thanking himself for slinking away hours ago, Damion gave up his watch as soon as they had gone inside the house and turned his mind instead to his future designs.

"And so the plot thickens, my annoying canker sores," he whispered.

"What thickens?" asked Axel. "Are you making Jell-O? Because I just beat Bastion in a duel and I could go for a nice-"

"Shut up!" Damion blared. "We have a problem and I'm trying to think."

Axel scoffed. "Oh? What's that? Enzo? Cale's feet? The fact that there's really no Jell-O? Hint, hint."

"No," Damion hissed through clenched teeth. "Fred."

"Oh... Well, I don't see what the big deal is. So he wanted to save his old friend. We get another IF out of the deal in the end if she don't go too crazy!" He smiled, his optimism making Damion sick.

"If my problem were Fred's trip down memory lane with that cronut I'd be thrilled. This is much, much worse, you insipid troglodyte. Did you forget the ancient edict?"

"Oh, come on! You're still on about that? You don't really think that-"

Damion slammed his fist on a table that appeared just for him to break and moved at Axel, snagging him by the shirt. "Fred was able to use the shovel, you idiot! Did you not notice that little detail?!" Axel's eyes rounded and Damion released him with a shove.

"He... He used the shovel..." Axel stammered.

"Exactly."

"Oh bollocks! He gave Lizzie her powers, didn't he? He... Only we're suppose to do that. What does that mean?"

"Oh, you know what it means, you blubbered whale's behind." Damion paced, a palpable dark energy stirring around him. "When I offered that shovel to Fred, it was a test to see if I was right about him, and that bastard followed through. I _knew_ he was lying, but I'm still in control... He's not as strong as us yet." He stopped, recalling how he'd overridden Fred's ability to switch back the shorts. "I still have time..."

Axel shook his head. "But that's... I mean, come on! It's Drop Dead Fred! He's not the type-"

"None of them are the type - I've made sure of it - and yet we still have this rule, don't we?" Damion's eyes lit with madness. "If the other worlds find out- If they- No! I'm going to have to find a way to deal with this before it gets out of hand."

"By all accounts, I think you're safe from it going any further."

"That's not good enough," Damion answered, looking back through his magical monocle goggles. "And you're going to help me. All of you are." He glared, watching his threats down in Minnesota planning games for Fred's charge.

_I will not let Drop Dead Fred take what's mine._

* * *

"Get some sleep, Nat," said Mickey, pulling the covers up to her chin. "Maybe we'll have something special for breakfast when you get up? We can make your favorite together. French toast?"

"I'm not gonna be hungry," she said, quietly.

"I know, Sweetheart, but you've got to eat something. It's... gonna be hard for while, but it'll get better. I promise."

"I don't want it to get better! I want people to stop saying that! I miss her! Fred said-"

"That's enough about Fred! I don't want to hear about Drop Dead Fred. If he's telling you bad things, then forget him. Lizzie's not coming back and if I could I'd-" Mickey ran his hands over his face, shaking. He couldn't do this; he couldn't take his pain out on Natalie.

Inhaling sharp, he sat himself down on the bed, touching her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Natalie. This is hard for me, too. We both miss her. Just get some sleep for now and I'll see you in the morning. I love you, okay?" Leaning down, he hugged her tight and kissed her forehead.

"Leave the light on? Please?" she asked.

Smiling, Mickey said, "Sure, but just for tonight. Pleasant dreams, Sweetheart." Quietly, he turned from the room and shut the door, but as soon as he did, Natalie bolted upright in bed.

Her eyes burned from all the tears she'd cried today and she imagined she didn't have any left at this point. Maybe that meant she wouldn't ever cry again; she hoped so because she hated it. She hated it like she hated today and how bad everything hurt.

All evening her dad had tried to explain things to her, to help her 'have a healthy understanding of life and death.' He'd told her how sorry he was, and how unfair it was, but Natalie had barely listened to any of it. She'd just been angry. Why did Lizzie have to leave her, too? Why did any of it ever have to happen? She didn't care if that was 'life' as her dad said, or 'inescapable.' It was just unfair and it hurt. Why did everything she cared about leave her? Her mom, her pets, Lizzie... Was anything ever suppose to be the way she thought it was? Even Fred had let her down today; he'd lied to her about helping Lizzie... She bet one day he'd leave her, too.

Her tears resurged at that thought and she pulled her knees up to her chest. She wanted Lizzie back and she missed Fred, and even though she hated him for being like the rest, she wanted him here. She needed her best friend.

"Where are you? How come you haven't come back? Please don't leave me yet, too..." She sobbed harder against her knees.

* * *

"Okay," said Lizzie, "let's put the pink elephant, fluffy tiger, and the sock puppet on top of the dresser right over there. Yes, there! That's perfect! That way they can sing to Natalie while she has her tea. Now we need to move the table to the middle of the room and make three place settings- No, Fred, we cannot have tea on an upside-down table."

"Says who? I think it-"

Fred dropped the table and gasped, the emotions of his charge striking from nowhere and searing through him like a flame. He stumbled, finding the pull to go to her exceptionally strong as Lizzie rushed to his side and steadied him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern coloring her face.

"Yeah. Nat just really needs me," he said, eyes brimming a moment with the child's grief before he could get ahold of himself.

Studying his face, Lizzie smiled. "Okay, go get her. I'll be waiting right here for you and then we'll help her together. Promise."

Fred nodded. "'Kay. Try not to mess up my table while I'm gone." He smiled and after affectionately dabbing her cheek with a bit of snot, disappeared for Natalie. He rematerialized seconds later at her bedside, finding the girl sobbing into her knees.

"Hey, Fishface," he said, laying a careful hand upon her shoulder.

"Where were you?" She gasped, her head shooting up so quick Fred jumped.

"Making you a party, of course!" he answered, trying to ignore the emotions radiating off her, or the stabbing glare.

"I don't want a party, Fred. I want Lizzie to, to come back!" Sobs broke her asperity and she curled against him, welcoming his tight embrace.

"We all do... but she can't, Nat." The way she shook in his arms broke his heart.

_Dammit, why can't I just tell her?_

"But you, you promised."

"I know, and I swear I really thought that-"

"And you lied." She turned her blue eyes up at him, cold betrayal in her stare.

"I did _not_! Listen, it's complicated-"

"But things happen, right? People die?" Natalie pulled away. "You're just like all the other grownups! Just like Daddy!"

"I'm NOT at ALL like Fartpants! Or anyone!" He stomped, snatching her pillow, and fighting against the mounting control of the second most unfortunate side effect of being an imaginary friend. Whenever a child resisted too long, when they wouldn't let the magic close, it was pretty much as bad as going too long without play. Lizzie had done this to him multiple times when he'd returned to her as an adult, and it had utterly driven him manic because as long as a charge needed them, they also needed their charge.

"You take that back!" he cried, getting in her face. The impulse to fix his relationship with Natalie thrummed inside him and Fred had to squeeze the pillow, ready to tear its stuffing out.

"Nuh uh! You _lied_ and I'm not listening to you anymore!" Natalie obnoxiously plugged her ears and hummed, making the urge too great for Fred to resist.

_Oh fucking sod it and this WHOLE GODDAMN DAY!_

"No, I didn't!" he yelled. "And I can PROVE it! Come're!" Snatching her up, Fred carried Natalie from the room and hauled her down the stairs in his rush for the kitchen.

"Lemmee go!" she cried, wriggling to get out of his grasp, but Fred just tightened his hold.

"Nuh uh! Not until you see what I've got to say!"

"I can't _see_ what you've got to say! It's words. You're STUPID!" She grunted. Her little fingers strained to pry his hands open, but to no avail. "FREEEEED!"

Ignoring her, Fred used his elbow to flick on the kitchen light and held her there, with her back against him. Her little legs dangled and kicked in protest and he quickly squashed a scream by covering her mouth.

"Shhhhhhh! You're gonna wake your dad!"

Natalie's protests reached Lizzie's ears from the guest bedroom and she frowned. That was _not_ what she expected to hear. "What the hell's he doing?" She could tell by the volume that Natalie was about to have a nuclear meltdown and wake her father; relaxation sleep tapes or no. _Oh no, I have to help Fred calm her down._

Hurrying downstairs to the kitchen, Lizzie froze upon finding Fred and Natalie fighting and twisting around each other like a two-headed octopus. "Oh my god, Fred! What're you doing?! Let her go!" she cried.

Fred shot Lizzie a look. "Not now, Snotface! I'm busy."

"Who's Snotface?" asked Natalie.

"Shh! Quiet!" said Fred, bringing his head next to hers. "Now I'm gonna show you I'm NOT a liar! I did exactly as I promised."

"Did not!" Natalie swung her legs, but Fred proved stronger. "Ugh! You suck, Fred! Let me down." Her heel swung back and dug against his shin.

"Ow!" he cried, doubling over with a hiss. Quickly, he retaliated by sticking a finger in his mouth and giving Natalie the sloppiest wet willy ever. "Stay still, would ya, and _listen_ to me!"

"Fred, stop it!" Lizzie snapped.

Natalie just squealed louder. "Get your gross finger outta my ear!"

Lizzie was utterly beside herself. "This is my life now..." she murmured to herself. Not even five minutes she'd left him alone. Five minutes.

Bracing himself so that he could hold onto Natalie and not lose his grip, Fred reached for the photograph Lizzie had left on the counter earlier that day. "Here! Look at this."

Natalie froze, allowing Fred to finally let her slide to the ground as she took the picture from him. "He looks like you."

"That's because it is me! See, I use to have a life before you, I was real, and I DID save Lizzie because the reason I was gone for so long is because I was making sure she ended up imaginary just like me."

Natalie's eyes went wide and she just stared at Fred in wild disbelief.

"Fred, no! You can't!" Lizzie bit her lip anxiously. What was he doing? "They said you can't do this!"

"Oh bollocks to them! I don't CARE. I've had it with today. I'm not letting her go on thinking I'm a liar, or grieving for ya when you're standing right bloody here, thanks to me!" He spun back to Natalie and Lizzie let out a deep breath.

 _Okay_ , she thought, _Fred's lost it_.

However, Lizzie knew there was no stopping him now and she hoped more than anything Natalie could understand. It was a stretch, though, even for one with a big imagination. _God I wish I could make her see me... just to prove that Fred's not lying to her... She needs him, and he needs her trust... and those gods better not be listening or I'm sure we're all dead._

"You're making things up again," Natalie said at last. "Stop being so mean, and stop lying to me!" Eyes tearing, she looked down at the photo once more, the doubt inside her obvious.

"Am not. She's right here." Fred waved his hand to his side and pointed right at Lizzie.

"Then why can't I see her?"

"Because she's-" Fred's insanity took a pause as he felt Natalie letting him back in. He really hadn't thought this far ahead and now he feared he'd gone too far. "Because she's not your imaginary friend," he said, softly, crouching down to be eye level with Natalie. What had he done? How could he prove this to her without losing her trust forever, or scaring her? If he could just make Lizzie visible for just a moment, link them long enough for Natalie to trust him again...

At the thought, Fred felt a tickle inside his belly, his magic stirring, followed by a flash of green and purple to his right.

Natalie gasped.

"LIZZIE!" She dropped the photo and clasped her hands over her mouth with a squeak. Right there, where Fred had pointed, was Lizzie surrounded by a glow of green and purple before disappearing just as fast as she'd appeared.

Lizzie gasped quietly as the rush of magic left her body. _What the hell was that all about?!_

Mouth agape, Natalie spun to Fred and threw her arms around him tight. "You did it! Oh Fred, you did save her!" She sobbed, bursting with joy.

The sight of Natalie accepting Fred once more drove away all of Lizzie's concerns as to how the little girl had seen her and her heart warmed over. She was pretty sure that she might be crying a little and a laugh escaped her. _I'm such a girl..._

"See, I told you, you could do it," said Lizzie.

Fred glanced up at her with confusion coloring his face as he held Natalie. _That should've been impossible... Perhaps it's a weird link to Snotface being my imaginary friend?_ He decided to just go with that before getting into it too deeply.

Pulling back, he poked Natalie's stomach. "There, you see? I told you I did it. You'll never doubt Drop Dead Fred again, will ya!" he said snarkily, striking a pose before hopping back to his feet.

"Wow..." said Natalie, staring up at him with astonishment. "So you were human? How?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "The same way you got that way, dummy!"

Natalie stuck out her tongue. "Then how did you turn into an imaginary friend?"

"Magic, of course. Duh! I fell down the right rabbit hole where I landed bottom first and squished it right out of a fairy!" Fred made a farting sound with his mouth, grinning.

"You killed a fairy?!" Natalie's face turned up in horror.

"Fred, don't tell her that! Oh my god!" Lizzie exclaimed.

"Oh fine! No fairies died in the making of my becoming an imaginary friend, but there _was_ farting, and plenty of it!" Fred glanced at Lizzie and mouthed, "Better?"

"Much," she deadpanned.

"So you guys are BOTH imaginary friends because you got fairies to fart on you?" Natalie's face scrunched.

"Yep!" Fred placed his arm proudly around Lizzie and leaned on her. "Gassed up Snotface real good just a moment ago."

Lizzie refused the urge to roll her eyes at Fred's explanation. Hard.

Natalie, however, laughed. "Can I become one, too?"

"Pfft, no! You've got to stay here. Your dad would fall apart without you here. Someone's gotta teach him how to be a _girl_ , you know." He swooped down and tickled Natalie, making her squeal, her tongue poking through the gaps of her missing teeth.

"Stop it!" She laughed, but he refused to relent.

"Oi, quit ordering me around, Fishface!" He pulled her into his arms and tickled her with added vigor.

The image they made together was so adorable that Lizzie had to bite her tongue to keep from saying so. Telling Fred that she thought he was really cute with Natalie was a really good way to find herself tied up over a burning snail pit or something.

"Ahem." She interrupted. "I hate to break this up, but Natalie DOES have to go to sleep at some point and she's got a party to get to. Don't want Cinderella to miss the ball, you know." She winked.

Natalie's breath caught as Fred stopped and she noticed he appeared to be listening to Lizzie. "What's she saying?" she asked. "Is she still here? Is she staying with us?"

"Yes. She's my own personal poltergeist," he answered. "And she says you've got a party to get to, but that costume just won't do!" he said, flicking her pajama top. "You're gonna need something else, or I'm sorry I can't be seen with you." Fred crossed his arms and huffed. He could see Natalie's eyes light with excitement.

"But I want to go to the party! Please!" She bounced up and down, pulling at the bottom of his jacket.

Behind his back, Fred conjured a blue dress and held it out for Natalie. "Arms up, then." She did as she was told and he shoved the dress over her head, making sure he thoroughly mussed her hair on the way down. "Muuuuuuuch better!" he cried, admiring his handiwork. "Whatcha think, Snotface?" The dress haphazardly hung from Natalie like a twisted lump and her hair resembled a frazzled tumbleweed.

Natalie looked down at the tragic mess she was wearing. "What's this supposed to be?"

"How should I know? I don't wear _girl_ stuff."

Lizzie tried to hold back her snort, but failed spectacularly. The dress looked like a blue trash bag. Taking pity on her poor friend, who had no idea how to be a girl, after all, she moved to stand in front of Natalie and crouched. Eyeing the blue monstrosity, Lizzie said, "Here, I want to try something."

Focusing hard as she could, Lizzie painted the image of the perfect princess gown inside her mind. Holding it there, she reached inward for her magic and pushed it into the clothing. Slowly a few purple motes began to dance around Natalie and the fabric transformed into a dazzling miniature version of Cinderella's ball gown. Lizzie sagged, the expulsion of energy taking a toll on her, but not before Natalie's delighted squeal.

"It's perfect!" she cried, crashing into Fred for another hug. She felt just like Cinderella when the fairy godmother had changed her dress. "This is sooo much better! Thank you. You're the best fairy godmother ever, Fred!"

"Fairy?! Ugh! Bite your tongue, Fishface! That was all Snotface's doing. I'm no prancing, twinkle toes." He shuddered at the very thought and Natalie laughed, letting go to twirl in her new dress.

The suggestion brought such an absurd image to Lizzie that she snorted loud, pulling a glare from Fred. "I don't know, Fred, I'm pretty sure I've seen you twinkle before. Perhaps you're on your way to becoming a godmother after all!" She snickered.

Fred waggled his head obnoxiously in her direction and stuck out his tongue. "Quiet, or I'll turn your nipple harness into a pumpkin once it's midnight!" He spat, turning back to Natalie. "And if you want a pumpkin carriage to smash, I've already got just the perrrrrrrrfect jack-o-lantern in my pocket."

Natalie blinked. What was a nipple harness? Though, she was too confused about her next question to bother asking the first. "How do you keep a pumpkin in your pocket?"

"Trust me, I fit a LOT in there," he said.

Refusing to rise to his bait, Lizzie instead tsked a finger at him. "Brraaaaa, Freeeed."

Fred twitched and shot her a ghastly look. "Oi! I told you before, I work with kids! What's wrong with you?" Using his magic, he snapped Lizzie's bra strap and watched Natalie, acting as if nothing had happened.

"OUCH, FRED!" Lizzie shouted, rubbing at the now tender spot. He continued to ignore her and she glared. _Why that little! Fine, you wanna play rough..._

Backing out of the room, Lizzie quickly unclipped her bra, pulling it out of her shirt sleeve. _Step one_ , she thought, holding it behind her back as she quietly resumed her place inside the kitchen. _Step two in three, two, one..._

As soon as Fred looked over to see what she was up to, Lizzie tossed her bra full on his face with a triumphant cry. "HA!"

"Whoa! Get it off my face! EWWWW! It's still warm!" Fred shouted, flailing and fumbling with the bra. His desperate motions only caused the straps to tangle around his fingers and he shook his hands, hopping backwards in horror. Natalie just stood there, completely stunned, as she couldn't see anything in Fred's hands.

"Get it off! It's trying to melt me! I'll turn into a girl!" he cried, finally flicking the bra into the sink and recoiling to hide behind Natalie. "Did you see that? It was a nipple octopus! It must have been eight feet high and thirty-seven stone of cooties!"

"You're crazy," Natalie said, flatly.

"Completely," Lizzie agreed.

"Am not!" he shouted.

"Well, I didn't see anything," said Natalie, shrugging at him.

"That's because you're a girl. Those things only try to eat men like me." He peeked over her, trying to see into the sink, but ducked back down behind Natalie. "I think it's dead. Go check." He tapped her and tried to urge her forward.

Natalie shook her head. "Nuh uh. I don't want any of those- What did you call them, Fred?" Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember. "Nipple cooties? Yeah, I think you're gonna need to take a bath before YOUR bedtime now."

Lizzie burst out laughing. "Yeah, you have COOTIES, Fred!" She felt the start of that manic energy from before bleed through her, feeding into her taunts and Fred immediately felt it invade him as well.

 _Well, alright_ , he thought, knowing he was doomed to follow her down the path of madness. _Snotface wants to play rough. I'll give her rough._

Grinning wickedly, Fred gagged, convulsing hard as he grabbed his throat, making the most atrocious sounds he could manage. "Oh no!" he shouted, twisting and dropping limp to the ground. "They've got me!" he wailed, writhing like a fish out of water. "It's the end for me now, Fishface!" He grabbed Natalie's ankle and looked up at her with a desperate seriousness. "Whatever you do, don't let them get you, too! Don't look in their beady, little eyes!"

Using this moment to strike, Fred magicked his Jockeys straight onto Lizzie's face and cackled like a maniac. Natalie wouldn't be able to see a thing and his revenge was set, ringing with the sounds of Lizzie's shrieks.

"Aaaaaahhhh, Frrreeeeddd!" Snatching the shorts away from her skin, Lizzie flung them to the floor and alternated between glaring at them and their demented owner. _Oh, I'm going to get him! If only I can conjure up something that would make him squirm just like that. Something he hates._

Scowling at her very obnoxious best friend, Lizzie noticed her frustration at being out-pranked only fueled the pent up energy that fed into her magic mania. _It's amazing how fast it replenishes itself_ , she thought. Within her next breath, she turned utterly consumed by the need for revenge, eye twitching and her fingers lusting to strangle him. _Something he hates... Something he hates... Something he HATES..._

And then the unthinkable happened.

Lizzie's intense concentration on Fred produced the telling tingle of magic within her knee. Swiftly, it traveled up and out like an electric eel before she could think to stop it. As if conjured from the depths of Hell, the single worst image flashed in her mind and came into being right before her. A chill of sheer horror ran through Lizzie's body. _Oh god, what have I done?!_

Natalie's laughter died when Fred's clothing washed in a glow of purple instead of his normal green and the sight left in its wake became the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen.

Drop Dead Fred wore a grownup lady's blue dress.

Gasping, Natalie cried out, "Oh no! The nipple octopus got you. You did turn into a girl! Ewww, you look so weird! Your dress isn't even right. That's not what a princess looks like at all!" It reminded her of the clothing her Aunt Monica wore, down to the very sharp shoulders and plain skirt that she repeatedly warned Natalie not to touch because it was 'very expensive.' Natalie cringed when she noticed Fred even bore the same kind of hair and jewelry. "Ewww, Fred."

"What're you blathering about?" he asked, touching his chest, but his eyes widened in horror when he felt the harsh fabric beneath his fingers. _Lizzie!_ Bolting upright, Fred looked down and screamed. "No! No, this isn't right!" Pinching the blazer, he paled at the image. _No, no this isn't happening!_

"Fred, you make a really ugly girl," said Natalie. His eye twitched.

Bolting to the stove, Fred snatched up the big spoon and used it as a mirror, shrieking as he saw his overly rouged face. Whirling around at Lizzie, he pointed the utensil straight at her face and yelled, "YOU! You did this? You've turned me into, into the MEGABITCH!"

Lizzie's face drained of color and all of her manic energy with it. Wringing her hands anxiously, she tried to shrug it off with an awkward smile. "Oops?" she said. She had no idea how she had done that, and now she didn't know how to undo it. But there he was, in all of his made over glory, the Fred version of the Megabitch. _He's going to KILL me._

"Oops? Oops?! It's not a little slip! You've turned me into your mother!" Fred's face turned shades redder than his hair.

Embarrassment, regret, and irritation all vied for dominance inside Lizzie. "Well, you threw your _used_ underwear into my face, Fred! Anyway, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to turn you into... into her. It just came out!"

"Oh? Just came out?! Like that? Like a bloody sneeze?! All for touching my Jockeys? It's not like you didn't wear them yourself earlier!" He spat, stomping his foot. _Oh, I can't believe this! How did she do it? She doesn't know how to conjure at this magnitude yet._ "Get these off me RIGHT now before I burst into flames or something!" Beside him, Natalie dropped to the floor, cackling. "Oi, stop it, you! This is a travesty!" She only chortled harder, and he looked over at Lizzie exasperated. "Look what you've done!"

 _Oh boy, he's taking this so much worse than I expected_ , thought Lizzie. Fred's heightened distress began a resurgence of her mania and she struggled hard against its pull. She tried recapturing the feeling from earlier which had created this mess, but quickly found that she couldn't concentrate hard enough when she herself was freaking out.

"Fred," she bit out, "I'm _sorry_ , I swear! I didn't mean to change you into her, but I can't fix it. I don't even know how I did it in the first place and now I can't find my magic. I'm so sorry! Can't you just magic your clothes back to normal like you usually do?"

He paled at the suggested, which he imagined was hard to do since he had on so much makeup. In his fit, he had completely forgotten he could fix this mess himself. "Of course I can! I was just testing to see if you really did it on purpose," he snarled, changing his outfit back to his favorite and only attire in a flash of green, complete with the boxers which had landed on the floor. "Ugh! That's so much better. Now I don't reek of evil and hellfire." He shuddered.

Lizzie breathed a sigh of relief now that Fred had righted his clothes. Maybe now that he wasn't dressed like Bitch Inc. he could calm down a little.

"Now you go sit in the corner and think about what you've done!" he said, pointing at Lizzie. "No more trying tricks 'til I've given you the full manual."

Crossing her arms, Lizzie huffed. "Fine, if you want to have your princess tea party by yourself, be my guest." She knew she had angered him, but she had apologized. Did he have to be in such a tizzy over it still? She really wanted to watch him spend quality time with Natalie; she missed that little girl and longed to see how Fred played with other children. Now it seemed, though, he was just going to punish her like she was still six-years-old. The crappy thing was, she really couldn't do much about it if he did.

Fred shot her an odd stare. "You want me to drink tea and play girl things without you? Are you mad? We're a team now, Snotface." His mood had quickly shifted from anger to playful, allowing him to feel a tinge sorry for Lizzie's mishap. Walking over, he whispered so that Natalie wouldn't hear, "'S'okay. I'll tell ya how I did my first day later." Stepping back, he smiled soft and winked before turning back toward Natalie. "So are you ready for your party?"

"Uh huh!" She nodded.

Lizzie smiled. "Yeah!" she said, excitedly, moving to stand near Natalie. This was going to be so much fun. A real tea party! Even if she was the invisible guest, it was still awesome that she could relive some of her childhood by watching Fred and Natalie together.

"Alright, you two. Come on." Fred snatched both of them by a hand. "You've got guests waiting and tea, and the pants pie's 'bout to come out of oven." Dragging them along, Fred led the way up the stairs, and toward the guest bedroom. "Going to a party with a Fishface and a Snotface..."

A sudden thought dampened Lizzie's mood as they reached the top step and she looked over at Fred. "We'll probably need to tell her to keep this a secret, Fred. I don't think her dad's going to like it very much if she talks about me still being around. I don't want to risk him taking her to a psychiatrist." _And expose you to any more of those pills..._

Fred stopped dead in his tracks. In his rush he'd completely forgotten about that very important detail. "Right," he said at Lizzie, trying to sort his thoughts.

"What's the matter?" asked Natalie, her head tilting up at him in curiosity.

"Fishface, there's something important I need to talk to you about before we go in there," he said, crouching down to take a seat on the top step. Natalie followed, and he gently pulled her onto his lap. "Now, this is _very_ important so I need you to listen to me." She nodded. "Okay..." Fred glanced up at Lizzie, trying to find the right words. He didn't want to scare her, but he needed her to understand the severity of the matter. "You've got to promise me you'll not tell your dad anything 'bout what I just told you in the kitchen. Got it?"

"Like about Lizzie?"

"Like exactly about Lizzie." He booped her on the nose and smiled; however, the little girl did not share his happy expression.

"But I want to tell him, Fred. Please? It'll cheer him up-"

"No," Fred cut her off sternly. "You can't tell him. He's a ruddy grownup. He wants you to stop believing in me, remember? He'll never believe you about Snotface."

Apprehensive, Natalie looked around as if she were trying to see Lizzie again. "But it's not you. He likes Lizzie. He'll believe me. I know it."

It took every ounce of strength Fred had not to groan in frustration. "Nat, you can't. Look, the truth is if you do I'll get in trouble. I'd have to leave, and you'd never _ever_ see me again."

"No!" she gasped, flinging her arms tight around Fred. "You can't leave ever! You're my best friend!" She trembled. "I won't tell. I promise, Fred. I won't tell! Don't go."

Gently, he patted her on the back and smiled. "Then don't tell your dad, Fishface, and I'll stay until you tell me to piss off." He tugged on her braid, making her let go of him.

"Hey! Stop that!" She laughed and playfully jabbed him in the chest. "I won't tell, Fred. I promise, and I'll never tell you to go either."

"Hmm. That's a hefty promise. I think I might need some more convincing..." he said, holding out his pinky. "You sure? Do you really, really promise never ever to tell your dad even if he threatens to feed you broccoli and sprouts? Or even your own liver?"

Natalie instantly hooked her pinky with his and nodded. "I promise to everything with cherries on top and whipped cream and mud pies!"

"Good. Then that means you're stuck with me." He pulled a face at her and lifted her off his lap. "Now come on. Snotface's gonna turn into a pumpkin if we don't get you in there on time. Then we'd have to carve her, or use her for a carriage, and I hate finding horses. They're snobs, you know." He smirked at Lizzie, who stuck her tongue out at him despite her grin.

"Um, you go on ahead without me," she said. "I'll catch up. I just need to, uh, find the rest of my clothes."

Looking at her curiously, it took a moment before Fred realized what she meant. _Oh yeah. The nipple harness in the sink._ He smiled and decided to give her a break. "Hold still, Snotface." Flicking his fingers, he reached out for the bra and magicked it right where it belonged, cupping her securely and hooking into place. "There. Now you're all lifted and separated proper. Better?" he asked, genuinely hopeful she liked the gesture.

A deep blush suffused her cheeks as she became simultaneously touched and embarrassed that Fred had secured her bra for her - and done it well. She could feel the faint traces where his magic had touched her skin. _It's almost like he did it himself... Oh my god! Where did that freaking thought come from?!_

Great, now she would be red as a tomato, but the way Fred looked at her with such a hopeful expression, she didn't have the heart to crush him. "Yeah." She coughed. "It feels great, Fred." _Oh god, did I just make it worse?_

Internally, she cringed so hard she wanted to fold in on herself and just disappear. Outside; however, she gave Fred her sincerest smile and hoped that he had no clue about the wayward and pervy path her thoughts pulled her. _Must be that freaking magic mania. I'm going to be just like Fred in no time flat!_

"Good because I wouldn't want you all upset again that your dirty pillows weren't all tucked in for the winter." Fred couldn't help himself; he never could. Yes, he wanted to make Lizzie comfortable and for her to know he cared about her, but he could not help himself. Ever. At this point he didn't know if he there had been a time in his life when he had. "Come on, Princess Fishface. Your party awaits!" he said, bending down to Natalie and holding out an arm like a proper gentleman for her to take.

Lizzie shook her head, all embarrassment gone. If a grown man, magic or not, couldn't bring himself to say the word 'bra,' then she could forgive herself for the odd internal thoughts. _Dirty Pillows indeed._

Taking his other arm, Lizzie flashed him a grin. "Alright, let's go party!"

* * *

A few hours later, Lizzie stood next to Fred, surveying their handiwork. Natalie lay sprawled and asleep across her bed, one of her favorite stuffed teddies, Mr. Bear, clutched in her arms. The princess costume and all evidence of the party were gone, save for the smile on the little girl's face; the party had been a huge success.

Fred had charmed several of Natalie's toys to join them for tea, while a separate trio sang off-key versions of Disney songs over on the dresser. Taking the chance to practice her magic skills, Lizzie had targeted one of Natalie's dormant toys. It had taken a while, but she'd finally gotten the pink elephant to give a noise, albeit one which sounded more like a pig's squeal than an elephant's trumpet - she still counted it, though.

"Well, she's finally out. Thanks for all the help, Snotface," Fred whispered so as not to wake her. He was extremely thankful tonight that he'd had Lizzie by his side after everything. If it hadn't been for his Snotface, he knew things wouldn't have smoothed over so quickly with Natalie. Seeing the girl asleep and peaceful at last gave him relief, like for the moment he was suspended in a cocoon where none of today's pain could find him.

"Of course. You were great today, Fred," Lizzie whispered back. She wanted to say more to him, but didn't want to chance waking Natalie. Moving for the door, she motioned for Fred to follow her and once they were out of earshot, she said with a smirk at the ready, "I had no idea you knew the proper etiquette for giving the Queen's wave, Fred. I was impressed."

"What's so surprising? I'm British, you know, or did you never notice that? Or that I'm always surrounded by _girls_?"

"Well, you were very poised. I think that the Queen Mum would be proud and Nat had a great time thanks to you." A giant yawn ripped right through her. Her body mirrored Natalie's exhaustion and right now all she wanted was to find a bed and crawl in it.

Rubbing her eyes she cast him a pleading look. "I know that you don't normally like to sleep, but I can honestly say that I feel beat. I think I need to try it for a bit, at least just to turn my mind off for a few hours.

"Then get some sleep, Snotface. I'll wake you up just before Nat gets up and we'll have some more fun." Smiling, Fred paused and watched her a moment. It really did feel great to have her back. This moment could almost be too good to be true, which caused an awful gnawing in his stomach. "I'll just go find my own fun while you snore and drool on your pillows." He turned to leave, but stopped.

"Oh hey!" Fred walked back to Lizzie. "I forgot to give ya something." Sticking a finger up his nose, he dug out a special present for Lizzie, and dabbed it on her cheek. "There. Can't have you go to sleep without your goodnight snotting." His nose crinkled playfully and he gave Lizzie's hand a quick squeeze before disappearing to cause trouble somewhere else.

* * *

The hallway outside the doors of where the gods of the Other Otherworld kept themselves brought Damion little solace tonight. Usually the dim lighting, the disembodied footsteps, and unnaturally thick and anguished energy lifted his spirits, but the problem he had, thanks to Fred, kept him from enjoying himself.

"Bet you bastards are laughing your asses off about all of this," he whispered to the footsteps. "I know you nosey pricks pay attention to everything that goes on 'round here. Well, it's not over yet, and when I dissolve this mess you'll have two new additions with you in my collection of failed projects." That thought brought a gleam to his eyes. "So you can wipe those smiles off your sad faces."

Behind, he felt the air change and swirl, bringing the familiar sensation of one his least favorite cohorts.

"Enzo," he said. "Can't you tell I'm busy plotting?"

"You're always plotting. Honestly you're getting a bit boring. Try something new for a change. It might do you some good. Maybe put some color in your face?"

Turning, Damion glared. "What do you want?"

"It's not what I want. It's what you want. You asked me to inform you when Miss Cronin was alone. She's alone now. Although, I'm not quite certain what it is you expect to gain from abducting her while she sleeps. Fred'll become very cross if he finds his friend's gone missing so soon after just getting her back." He conjured a mirror and busily inspected his tea dress, which happened to be an exact copy of the one Lizzie had worn, except in a garish combination of magenta and yellow.

Damion smirked. "He'll never even know she's gone... Send in the cronut!" he barked, vanishing from the hall and returning to his dominion.

* * *

Soon after drifting off to sleep, Lizzie woke within the oddest dream - and considering the details of recent events, that was saying quite a bit.

She found herself back inside her childhood room, everything in it grossly oversized. The bed, her furniture, even the stuffed animals had all blown up to twice her size, giving Lizzie the feeling of being small as a cricket.

_I wonder if this is how Alice felt?_

A chill coursed through her as she became painfully aware that her comfortable sweats had been replaced by the only undersized thing in the room: her dress.

Done in the same style as what she had worn for picture day in the second grade, it somehow fit her adult body while roughly retaining its child size. Reaching down, Lizzie squeaked as she felt that all the frills of her petticoat just barely covered her behind, and the cool air caused her a shiver.

_What the hell is the deal with my butt hanging out lately?!_

Folding her hands over the backside of the dress, Lizzie realized she had no tights to protect her dignity, and sank onto the floor in humiliation. Something told her this wasn't just a dream.

"You really did have appalling taste in décor, Miss Cronut."

Lizzie jumped and saw Damion leaning against the doorframe to her bedroom. Where had he come from? "Not my idea. My mother decorated it. I always wanted blue walls, but she insisted on pink for everything. She thought it was the appropriate color for little girls." She shrugged and checked just to be sure that the petticoat was splayed out well enough behind her.

"Yes, your mother was quite the... What is it that Fred calls her?" he drawled.

"A megabitch."

"Ah yes, the Megabitch. Fred always was so wonderfully creative with his use for foul language. You were very lucky to have him, you know. Imaginary friends are in such short supply and oftentimes children have to go without because there isn't enough to go around."

Damion's tone was conversational, friendly even, and it set Lizzie's teeth on edge. She forced a smile, but it twisted into a grimace. "You're right. I was- am lucky to have Fred. He's been the best friend anyone could ever ask for."

Damion eyed her intently as he walked into the room. "Mmm. He has, hasn't he? I think it's safe to say that Drop Dead Fred holds you in particular quite close to his heart. No other IF has ever shown the level of devotion to a charge's happiness and wellbeing as he has with you. It kinda goes against their very nature, in a way."

Lizzie frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Only that IF's are chosen for several reasons, one of them being their ability to stay transient and not become too attached. We need them to provide for a child's imagination, but to be able to move on to the next when that child no longer needs them. You were his first charge, and Jack-in-the-box incident aside, he hasn't left you yet. See what I'm saying?"

Damion's tone implied it was her fault that Fred had gone against convention to stick around and make her an imaginary friend and it made her uneasy. She didn't want to be the reason that Fred got into any kind of trouble; she owed him so much. _Well then, this is where I start to make it up to him..._ she thought.

"I know that Fred has put a lot of effort into me, but I believe that's actually a very good quality in an IF. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for him and your generous decision to let him train me. Because of that, I know that Natalie will be better than okay when all of this is over because he'll put every effort into making it that way. I think he's the best teacher for this job that I could have possibly asked for. Really, you should try to pick more IF's like him."

"Hmm. You'd think, but it tends to cause problems... However, sounds like you two are pretty close, despite the years. You're awfully fond of him, aren't you?" he asked, slipping his hand along the edge of her bed as he eyed the toys laying in the corner. Slowly he turned back to face her.

Lizzie eyed him with suspicion, her every hair standing on end. "Yes, you could say that. He saved my life, in more ways than one. He's my best friend," she said simply.

"Hmm. Yes, you two are rather _special..._ It's hard not to notice. You've been a great many firsts for Fred. Did you know he's the one who insisted he make it back to you should you ever reopen that bloody Jack-in-the-box?"

A small ache stabbed Lizzie's heart. Fred had really done that? "I can't say that I'm sorry he did. I realize that he probably should've forgotten about me and everything, but even though I grew up... I still needed him. I was really messed up, and Fred is the only reason I was able to get my head on straight. I'll probably never be able to repay him for what he's done for me," she finished solemnly.

"Yes, I'm sure you're eager to repay him for all he's done. All the doting from him must make you feel special? Being the only adult an IF has ever gone back to and all." He stepped closer, looking at her very carefully and smiled. The relaxed expression seemed almost unnatural on his face. "Are you sure that your admiration for Fred is just for the fact that you think he makes an excellent _friend_?" His brows gently lifted in question.

Crossing her arms, Lizzie juggled mounting confusion. It irritated her. "What else would it be for?"

"Well, you've known each other for so long. Feelings blossom," he said, the forced way of the words barely covered. "The man's saved your life, cared for you, broken rules for you, put up with this atrocious room... Are you saying you've never yearned for more?"

Lizzie's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "More? More _what_?" Realization dawned on her the longer he stared at her. "Are you- Are you trying to say- me and Fred?!" She blinked. It was like he had suddenly started spouting a foreign language, gibberish even, but finally she regained control enough over her brain to speak again.

"I think I can honestly say that I have _not_. I have no idea where you got that idea from, but we're just friends! Honestly! Fred isn't even capable of... of that kind of attraction anyway, so it would be pretty stupid of me to start pining after my imaginary friend, now wouldn't it?"

"Oh PLEASE! I wasn't born last century. Of course Fred's capable. You think that pervert's never dipped it in the pond? But we're not talking about him. I'm asking about you. Humans do stupid shit all the time and up until today that's what you were. Now, are you attracted to Drop Dead Fred?"

Lizzie's brain broke. _Dipped it?_ A flurry of perverted and outlandish images involving Fred and 'dipping it' paraded through her mind, each one more ridiculous than the last. Her face burst into flames as she tried to mentally scrub them from her brain; she needed bleach. Lizzie tried to speak, but Damion's revelation left her so disoriented that her words bordered on babbling.

"Because... Because Fred doesn't feel that way about anyone!" She laughed, but it tripped out of her mouth. "I mean, IF's don't feel sexual attraction... Do they?" The last part involuntarily rolled out, but all of a sudden she wasn't so sure of her previous assumptions.

"Aren't you adorably naïve." He sneered. The forced pleasantries had worn him thin and he was ready to make Lizzie spill every secret he could get now that he had her flustered enough. "But you're serious, aren't you? Really, I'm going to have a birds and the bees talk with a grown woman here in this pink monsoon?" He waved at the bedroom. "Maybe I misjudged you a smidge on your normality..." He breathed deep, rolling his eyes, as he gathered the strength to get into this topic.

"But in answer to your question, yes, an IF can experience sexual attraction, albeit it's an extremely _rare_ thing. We can't remove all traces of your humanity during the transformation and honestly touching hormones is the last thing I care to be bothered with. It's just not possible anyways, but I digress. Where was I? Oh yes, sexual attraction's just usually not part of an IF's nature. They sorta come with it naturally suppressed when I find them. We're in the business of creating friends for children after all, we can't have them running around rutting in toy boxes and chasing skirts when they need to be working. Do you see the problem here?"

Lizzie realized her mistake. She wasn't in the afterlife, she was living in the fucking Twilight Zone. That was the only explanation. How else could she be here, with a _god,_ having a frank discussion about Drop Dead Fred's sexuality?

White hot indignation boiled inside of her at Damion's condescension. Her right hand itched to hit him in the face again. _Maybe if I do it hard enough this time he won't be able to put everything back where it belongs..._

"I'm sure if there _were_ a problem, you would have already seen it by now," she said through gritted teeth. Damion was trying to incriminate Fred somehow, and he was trying to use her to do it, but it made absolutely no sense. The idea of Fred being attracted to _her_ was absurd! Even if his hormones were apparently alive and well.

"Look, we're just friends. I don't know how many possible other ways I can say it. If Fred wants to go... dip it..." She cringed. "...on his own time, then that's his business. It has nothing to do with me."

"So are you saying that I can have your guarantee that there won't be any dipping in the future either? You know friends can end up-"

Once again Lizzie's mouth dropped. "I beg your pardon! Who I have sex with, if I ever have sex again, is none of your business!"

"It is when I OWN YOU!" Damion's eyes flashed.

"Why do you care?" she demanded. "Why would it matter if I suddenly decided to drag Fred off to a broom closet if we were making sure to keep it away from the children? Parents do it all the time. Literally."

"Oh, a broom closet? Awfully specific, Miss Cronut." He leaned closer, causing her to flinch.

"Ewww, are you some kind of otherworld pervert?!"

"No that's surprisingly Cale, and maybe Bastion if you want to get technical. Look, you thorn in my ass, it matters because in case you weren't aware, IF's are forbidden from falling in love, and you're as normal as they come compared to the others I've brought in here, and love is something I know you still crave. So were you ever to do it with Fred, we both know where your little fluttering heart would go and that's a problem."

Lizzie deflated, her heart sinking from the sting. "I already figured that out for myself," she said quietly. "I mean, when your new job is to spend eternity befriending children and the dating pool is literally limited to those who can see you... I knew what I was getting into when I accepted training. There's no need to rub it in my face, or Fred's."

Damion's stance relaxed and he stepped away from her at last. "What if I told you that I already think he's attracted to you?"

"Then I would have to ask you again if you're insane, because it's just not possible. He loves me as a friend, and if that's forbidden too, then you need to rethink how this job is done. It takes caring to _take care_ of someone, especially children. They already know what it feels like to be lied to when someone tells them they love them. How can you expect them to trust an imaginary friend who can't? As for the other part, I really don't think you will ever have to worry about that. We're both well aware that I don't inspire that kind of emotion in men."

At last Damion got what he wanted. He could tell her protests were real, unlike Fred's, which had some desperate force to them that lacked the honesty of this cronut. _Fred might be compromised, but this end's a dead one_ , he thought with a smile. _My kingdom's safe for another day at least._ "Then I believe you and I have nothing more to say on the matter. Thank you for your time, Miss Cronut. Have _fun_ in rehearsals for your big tests." Damion flicked his fingers, sending her away.

* * *

Lizzie gasped as she actually felt herself slam back into her own body, waking in the guest bed with her knuckles whitened from their death grip upon the sheets. Her first and only thought was how much she wanted to punch something.

However, still unable to conjure things at will and not wanting to alert Fred to her state, she settled for rolling over and screaming into her pillow until hoarse.

How was this her life now? Her imaginary best friend suddenly came with a working sex drive?! Otherworldly dating rules?! Creepy gods who gave a talk on abstinence only for imaginary beings?! What was next?

Throwing the pillow off her face, Lizzie huffed. "Well, I wanted a more interesting life... Looks like I got my wish. Crazy bastards all around..."

However, reliving her conversation with Damion made her extremely worried. He had taken the pains to make sure she was alone in order to grill her about the nature of her relationship with Fred; like there was anything she would hide! But his insistence that there might be something more than friendship between them, his demands that there never _should_ be... it got her thinking what it was he thought he saw.

Up until very recently, it had never even occurred to Lizzie to even consider Fred as a man, let alone someone she could be attracted to. He had always just been Drop Dead Fred her imaginary, and therefore, untouchable friend. But that must have changed? She couldn't believe that Damion would dog her steps so relentlessly about breaking the rules if he didn't think they already were on the path to doing so.

Hugging her pillow to her chest, she curled her knees and turned over so that she could stare at the blackened corner in front of her. What had changed between them that was putting Fred's position as an imaginary friend under so much pressure?

Lizzie bit her lip. Could it have been all of the stuff about nudes and nipples during their training session today?

_No, that can't be it._

If she thought about Damion's behavior, he had been laying down the rules since Fred had first asked to bring her over. But why? She knew that it had been an outrageous request, one never even made before in fact, but Fred had never been anything but comforting and obnoxious towards her, especially after he came back into her life. How was that any different from how he had treated her as a child? The only time she had ever seen him act even remotely out of character had been-

Lizzie's eyes flew open.

The kiss.

He had kissed her before he left her. He had _asked_ her to kiss him before he left her.

"Oh my..."

At the time she hadn't really thought anything of it, other than trying to swallow the terrible ache at having to finally say goodbye to him forever. The sweet exchange had been oh-so-brief, she couldn't see how it could become construed as anything else... but now that she thought about it, her lips began to tingle at the memory.

Closing her eyes, her mind provided the extra details of Fred she hadn't noticed then. The feel of his lean, hard body against hers contrasted with his soft lips against her own. His scent tickled her nose and teased her, leaving her yearning to explore the sweetness of his mouth. He'd held her so desperately in those last moments, and she recalled the gentle way his thumb had stroked her back before he'd faded from her arms. The innocent memory no longer seemed so harmless. Her heart thudded.

_What the hell am I suppose to do with this?_

"You don't do anything, remember? No use over analyzing because it's apparently against the rules for imaginary friends to get all tingly when they kiss each other... I guess it's against the rules for them to kiss in the first place..."

So why had Fred asked her to kiss him? I seemed the fuel for Damion's fire... so why? Why risk kissing her?

A memory of something said between Fred and Damion during that first awful exchange after she'd been brought over came to mind.

 _'_ _Good luck with that. I have no secrets_ ,' Fred had said, ' _You'd certainly use them against me if I did.'_

 _'_ _Yes, you keep saying that,'_ Damion had answered, _'but I suspect the imaginary friend doth protest too much...'_

Lizzie's breath caught. "No! It doesn't make any sense... It was just... No!" She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of Fred liking her... like _that_. Frowning, she tried to decipher her true thoughts on this. The idea of Fred liking her, even finding her attractive... it felt like listening to a record playing backwards, she just couldn't follow along. He had always been her friend with a capital F. Friends didn't look at you like that, they didn't secretly want you like that, they didn't... They didn't...

_They didn't kiss you..._

An odd fluttering was beginning to start in her chest. Did Fred see her as more than a friend? Had that kiss meant more for him than a goodbye? Ugh, she was so confused!

_But how do I feel about him?_

Memories of mud pies and pirate thieves and late night burglar parties brought a smile to her face, but it quickly faded when those images melted into new ones of him staring at her breasts, or the look in his eyes when he caught her staring at his naked chest...

_Oh my god..._

Lizzie brought her pillow back up to her face and resumed screaming.

_I think I'm attracted to my imaginary friend!_


End file.
